


You And I Against The World

by my_happy_little_bean



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Agents, Alcohol, Blood, Gore, M/M, MI5 - Freeform, PBB, Phandom Big Bang, Swearing, Violence, and guns., basically the phan!spy fic no one asked for, brief mentions of drugs, descriptive scenes of torture, non-con, non-explicit rape scene, non-explicit sex scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-03 08:35:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 37,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8705263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/my_happy_little_bean/pseuds/my_happy_little_bean
Summary: Dan and Phil are top MI5 agents, partners, and best friends. But when a party goes wrong and Dan is kidnapped, Phil is thrown into a chaos only he can get out of. Between mysterious clues, vengeful friends, hidden feelings, and sleeping with your bestie, he believes his social life may be harder than his actual job.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here it is! My actual baby. I have been working on this story since May, and it has been a stressful wonderful challenge to endure. I signed up for the PBB with a story idea that I thought of three seconds before registering, as I didn’t know you actually had to have a story idea the moment you register. After that, I suppose the rest is history. I may have written a 36k story — something I never thought I could ever do — but there are many people who helped me...conceive this child, in a way (what am I even saying ok moving on to more sappiness).
> 
> To @phanficphil: Cezza, thank you for having a cool name for all your help throughout the first few months of the story. I know you disappeared somewhere along the way, but if you are reading this, look what you helped create! If it wasn’t for you, Dan and Phil would be wrongfully in the MI6 instead of the MI5; even if that edit was pretty big to tackle at the beginning, it was definitely something I needed :’)
> 
> To @doddlepaintphan: God, Poppy, you are amazing! Thank you for literally stepping in two months before this had to be posted and for doing the best you possibly could. I will never forget those bolded comments you made throughout the story, because they made me smile that my content was actually worth the comment. You did everything I could ever ask, and I really appreciate it
> 
> To @evermoriver: Thank you as well, Mariam, for doing way more than you ever needed too: for not only making two beautiful pieces of art that made me cry on several occasions, but for helping me edit the story literally three days before it needed to be posted. You are a godsend. 
> 
> To @twotimesawesome: Kirsty, I could never thank you enough for all the help you gave throughout this story. Not only are you my squad leader, but you helped me edit this story literally a day before I had to post it, even if you didn’t have to. You put up with all my countless problems, and I couldn’t be more thankful. 
> 
> Sappiness aside, make sure you give a follow to all these people, and enjoy the story!
> 
> The amazing art can be found here:
> 
> http://evermoriver.tumblr.com/post/153868095893/war-is-all-around-im-growing-tired-of-fighting  
> http://evermoriver.tumblr.com/post/153868192698/you-and-dan-were-made-for-each-other

_“War is all around; I'm growing tired of fighting. I've been drained, and I can't hide it. But I have strength for you; you're all that's real anymore. I am coming home now; I need your comfort.”_

  _~ Aftermath, Muse_

\--*--

  _‘After this,’_ Dan thinks to himself, _‘I’m probably going to retire. Maybe start a new life with him by my side and… two children, perhaps? I might even make videos about my life and opinions; AmazingDan or something? Oh, how Felix would laugh…’_

Dan smiles at the thought. Or at least he _wants_ to smile; it’s hard to do so when you’re gagged and bound to a chair in a dark room with no idea where you are.

Dan tries to remember how he got in this position, but after walking out of the party, all of his memories were a bit fuzzy.

Now he can see almost nothing, other than a wooden door and a window covered with tattered curtains that revealed cracks in the glass and small amounts of sunlight. If he squints, he can see the floor that the chair was stuck on; old and broken, with wooden floor panels sticking up jaggedly around him. The small shaft of light from outside illuminates a lone spider web in the corner of the room near the door. On it is a small widow spider, crawling along the edge of the web. For some reason, Dan feels calm, watching it work away.

The door slams open, crushing the spider and its web. Dan winces slightly, closing his eyes as he adjusted to the new light pouring out in front of him. He blinks, and the light reveals the silhouette of a girl in a black suit. He doesn’t recognize her, but he knows she is bad news.

“Enjoying your stay? I can tell you got pretty used to seeing in the dark.” the girl says, a small smirk visible behind her jet black mask. She walks towards the steel chair Dan’s bound to.

“Why the hell am I here?!” Dan squirms against his bindings. “You’re crazy! I promise my friends will find you! And you are gonna rot in hell, just like all the other people like you!” Dan screams.

Or at least, he tries to scream. The cloth that gagged him muffles his words against his own mouth, and he ends up tasting his own spit as it seeps through. The girl laughs, circling the boy

“You are quite the character, now aren’t you?” the girl says with a smile. “Honestly, this may be the fourth time I’ve been in this situation, but they just get more annoying as the time goes by.”

“You’re fucking crazy!” Dan tries to yell at her against his gag. But once again, his voice comes out as pathetic, muffled screams. It seems to please the girl, which maddened Dan even more.

After a while, he decides it wasn’t worth screaming at her anymore, since his words were not making a difference. When Dan finally gives up, the girl grins widely.

“Thank you,” she huffs, before adding,“I don’t think I could’ve taken a second more of your childish whining.”  

The girl looks around the room boredly. Dan does as well, but for reasons contrary to hers; he’s examining every corner of the room to find something sharp for him to use. He then tries to undo the knot behind his back, but has no luck. The girl notices and slaps him. 

“Nice try, double-o- _pathetic_ ,” she says with a smirk, “This room is empty of anything and everything you can use to get out of here. You’re not going anywhere.”

Dan realizes the light intensifies slightly, illuminating the girl. His eyes shift, and that’s when he finally sees an object that makes him recoil.

She’s carrying a lighter. Slick and black, it has silver designs sprouting out from the edges, blossoming into flowers. He hears a click, and then fire flares from the top, adding to the small amount of light in the room. The door, as if on cue, slams closed from the wind flowing through a crack in the window. Dan gulps––he doesn’t like where this is going.

“Anyway, since your friend isn’t showing up any time soon,” the girl croons with a manic grin, “I don’t see any harm if we just _burn_ some time.”

Dan shudders _; ‘Maybe my username should be ‘danisnotonfire’ for good luck,’_ he thinks as he feels the warmth of it come closer and closer.

\--*--

**_Before_ **

“Are we gonna die?” a blond haired kid asked.

Phil chuckled, staring at the guy in front of them, who was digging through the drawers in the storage room, putting as much as he could into his duffle bag in his left hand. The other hand was carrying a black revolver, the end of it facing the ten children and their frightened teacher, all huddled in the corner.

“I hope not, kid,” Phil replied. “If so, I don’t want to say I met my end in a daycare storage room. No offense, Miss Jenkins.”

The teacher smiled weakly as Dan just huffed, his head leaning on the wall; he wished he hadn’t left his pistol in the car. He fiddled with the tie on his chest, bored, and a bit hot, as his blazer was _so damn thick..._

“What is there to steal in a daycare anyway?” Phil continued to reason, snapping Dan out of his thoughts. “There isn't much to get around here.”

Dan chose to be silent and let Phil try to negotiate something; that was usually how they did things. He started to drift off, and his mind raced with things he could do.

“I don’t know if you know this, _Mr. Howlter_ ,” the man growled, “but there is this thing called _money?_ ”

Phil rolled his eyes. The man scoffed.

“And since I am not spending it on nosy children, I don’t mind saving some up to buy myself a cherry red sports-car, and my own island.”

“But I mean, wouldn’t that be better with some kids or something? Imagine singing _Journey_ with them in that cherry red sports-car, driving to your new island—" 

“Islands are in oceans, dumbass. There’s no islands with roads connecting it to the mainland,” the man sneered.

“Well, maybe that’s what the money could be used for?” Phil’s voice squeaked, and then added quietly, “And it’s called a bridge…”

The man was pissed off now, especially since Dan had snickered from behind him. The man pointed his gun at the small group, some kids cowering into other kids’ shoulders, while the teacher muffled her yelps through her hands. The man then shot at the ceiling, watching the bullet drill a hole through it. The kids screamed, and the man laughed. Dan hated to admit it, but he jumped a little too.

“Look, maybe we can negotiate something,” Phil said, shaking a bit. Dan couldn’t tell if he was still acting or if he was actually terrified. “I don’t think it’d be fair to your future kids if you were in a jail cell, and can’t cook them pancakes. Trust me when I say that the feeling is terrible.”

As soon as Phil said that, Dan found himself facing the end of the gun. He gulped visibly.

“Listen up, _Mr. Sunshine._ You say one more word, and I shoot your ugly excuse for a husband.” The man cackled, and Dan looked at Phil, trying not to show the small amount of fear in his eyes. Phil’s once calm face was contorted with anger.

“Alright, I was trying to be kind, but I guess you won’t have it. You people just always want the hard way. Dan, cut the charade.” Phil narrowed his eyes at the thief. “Let’s take down this asshole.”

Dan grinned. “I thought you’d never ask.” 

Without warning, Dan jumped up from his spot on the ground, smacking the revolver out of the thief's hand and onto the floor. The man was too surprised to counter-attack, so Dan took it to his advantage; he kicked him in the back, pushing him into the file cabinets with a big bang. The kids’ eyes widen, and so do the teacher’s.

“Your boyfriend’s gonna pay for that,” the man said, gritting the words through his teeth as he wiped the blood off his cracked lips and set his eyes on Dan.

“Too bad he ain’t my boyfriend,” Dan retorted, and the man’s eyes widened in confusion and surprise. 

“What?!”

“That’s what most people say as well,” Phil said with a smirk, and took the guy by surprise, grabbing his arm from behind and using it to pull himself up.

The man was dragged down and smacked his head on the floor. He clenched his jaw tightly, swiped at his now bleeding nose and pushed himself up to grab his gun. He fired at the metal filing cabinet, the bullet nearly grazing Phil’s face as he dodged, allowing it to puncture a hole in the centre of the bloodstain that the thief left.

“Fucking fags!” the man yelled. Phil and the teacher winced at the words.

“Yeah, I love fucking fags too!” Dan retorted, the words tumbling out before he could stop and think about them.

He doesn’t regret saying it after, since his facial expression is nowhere near the same as Phil’s—his face is white, and eyes wide.

The guy seemed to notice how new the information was to everyone, and he took advantage of that, pushing Phil to the ground. Phil winced as he flew backwards to the floor.

 _‘That ought to leave a bruise,’_ he thought with closed eyes.

The end of the gun now faced Phil’s head. Phil’s left cheek was pressed against the ground by the guy’s foot.

“Alright, showtime’s over.” the man said. “Congrats on coming out of the closet—”

 “I beg to differ — this is more of a storage room.” Dan replied snarkily.

 “—but this cute little spy reenactment had to be cut by some point.” The man said, looking at Dan threateningly.

'At this moment, Phil felt the man’s foot move from his face to between his shoulder blades. He propelled himself up while the thief was unbalanced and sent him flying, crashing into a shelf of Winnie the Pooh books.

'Nice choice,” Dan said, “Winnie the Pooh books are my favorite.”

The man recovered, wiping dust off his shoulder. He tried to grab Dan’s arm, but Dan dodged right, before punching him in the face. His fist connected with his jaw, a crack cutting through the tension in the air. The guy rubbed his cheek, and Dan high-kicked the gun out of his hand, sending the masked man’s arm flying to his head.

The gun slid across the floor and stopped right next to a little girl’s foot. Out of curiosity, she reached out to touch the trigger. Phil walked over to her, and grabbed the gun.

“I think should you stick to the toys outside, kid,” Phil said with a small smile.

“But I wanna touch it!”

“Not the best idea. Not to disappoint, but this gun has no bullets in it.”

“Yeah it does—” another kid said, before being interrupted by Phil unloading the gun, all the bullets spilling onto the floor. Then he pocketed the empty gun with a fake apologetic smile and a shrug. 

“You idiots!” the man screamed, grabbing the duffle bag, realizing he should probably make a run for it since he was defenseless.

Unfortunately for him, Dan was right in his face, holding up the keys that the guy used to lock them all in. The man groaned loudly.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m not an idiot,” he said, wiggling the keys in his face.

The man looked around frantically, turning around, thinking he could make an escape somehow. But he was now face first towards Phil, who was holding a cell phone.

“Gun’s useless, and there’s no escaping this storage room,” Phil said, smiling as he added, “And I called for backup because I am not an idiot either.”

The guy lunged towards Phil, hoping to land a final punch. Phil smirked, stepping to the side, and the guy ended up tumbling forwards onto the ground, right in front of the kids. He groaned in defeat, his face covered in blood, as Dan pulled out handcuffs and pinned him down.

“Jason DiCaprio, you are now under arrest for attempted theft, along with holding ten kids, a teacher, _and two MI5 agents_ hostage in a storage room. You have the right to remain silent. There are MI5 agents outside this door, so don’t think about doing anything stupid.”

The kids slowly clapped, along with the teacher. She hugged Phil tightly, tears glistening on her cheeks. She murmured ‘thank you’ over and over again into his shoulder as the door was kicked down. MI5 agents flooded into the storage room, taking care of Jason and all the hostages.

“Are you James Bond?” a kid asked, looking up at Dan.

Dan chuckled, exchanging looks with Phil.

“Nope,” Dan answered. “We’re just two guys who are pretty cool and have normal lives like you. Minus the whole ‘arresting bad guys’ and whatnot.” 

Phil smiled, wrapping his arm around his partner. “And not to brag, but we are a tad better than James Bond. But don’t tell him that.”

Dan smiled as Phil continued to tell the kids stories — fake ones, of course — to keep them from having nightmares. As Dan watched Jason being taken away by other agents, he felt dizzy. Adrenaline had already passed and he was left with one thought in his head — did he just come out in front of his partner?

\--*--

Green Day was playing in the car as Dan and Phil drove home in silence. It was late at night, and they stopped by a pizzeria to have dinner, despite the elephant in the room.

When they got back into the car, Phil decided to break the silence.

“So did you mean it?” Phil asked quietly over the music.

“I think I’ve always been gay,” Dan said, indirectly answering his question. “I’ve always had an unhealthy obsession over Matt Bellamy.

Phil let out a quiet ‘ah’ and nodded — he knew that Dan meant it as a joke, but he couldn’t find the courage to laugh. He tapped his foot to the beat of the drums.

“I didn’t take you for the homophobic type,” Dan mumbled quietly, tentatively looking at Phil. Eyes still on the road, Phil smiled a little.

“I’m not.”

“Thank god.”

“I mean,” Phil said, stepping on the brake and looking Dan straight in the eye, “I’d be kind of a hypocrite to be homophobic, considering _I am bisexual_.”  

When Dan choked a bit on his drink, Phil smiled, patting him on the shoulder. The rest of the car ride was silent.

\--*--

They got to their flat shortly after, and Phil went straight to bed, throwing his blazer on the couch and making his way to his bedroom.

“G’night, Bear,” Phil mumbled quietly, like every night.

“As with you, Lion,” Dan replied, making his way to his own bed, and closing the door.

Dan lay down on the black and white checkered bed sheets, staring at the dark ceiling, replaying the whole night in his head.

‘ _Phil is bisexual,’_ were the words that repeated over and over. _‘He knows that I am gay.’_

Dan never really told anyone about his sexuality, aside from his parents. His dad was fine with it, but his mom was in denial. She sent him to many religious camps to “correct him,” but it never worked.

It was funny how Dan even got here in the first place without being totally shunned, and Dan liked to think, even with all his struggles, he turned out alright. Especially since he ended up getting Phil in the process.

Oh, how he remembered 2009; the craziest year of his life.

Dan lived in Reading, Berkshire, for most of his childhood. He remembered the times his dad lived with them, but after the divorce, he barely got to see him. Dan wasn’t completely surprised when he heard the news; his dad worked at the MI5 headquarters in London, so he was away most of the time anyway. That, and he fought a lot with his mom when they were together, so Dan figured it was for the best.

Unfortunately his mom didn’t think it was the best choice. She didn’t take the divorce too well, and in her rage, left Dan to take care of his brother Adrian most of the time.

To be honest, Adrian was the favoured one. It was always like that, and his mom never forgot to remind him. Even when Dan gave up on his law degree a year into university — which was the hardest thing he ever had to go through — his mom was never there for him. Instead, she constantly blamed him for everything that had happened, and he began to sink into a dark period of his life.

After that moment, Dan’s life became far from normal. He told his dad the news that he had dropped out of uni, and he had somehow convinced Dan to try to land a position at the MI5, since he knew Dan’s general interest in his job. After serious conversations back and forth with his dad, Dan agreed in the end. 

So Dan took the leap; he packed his bags to move with to London with his dad, despite his mom’s drunk remarks that he would never make it. He said goodbye to his home for what he hoped was the last time, and took the train to London. 

It took him six weeks to finish his training and the whole process of tests and background checks that MI5 had thrown upon him, but Dan was happy he finished. At that very moment, Dan was actually _excited_ for something; a feeling he never felt in a long time.

Well, he _was_ excited. For about one day.

The day after his training ended, he got paired up with Victoria Tailors. She was a very pretty girl, Dan gave her that; she had brown hair in a short bob cut, and always wore jeans of a different color every single day. He didn’t really think Victoria was anything bad, since she was pretty nice, and to some, very attractive.

But it was when his first mission ended with her that he finally realized why Victoria was considered to be one of the most obnoxious people at the agency.

To start off, she wasn’t very helpful at all. In fact, she was as inexperienced as Dan was, possibly less. Despite her good looks, she refused to date other people as she only had eyes for Dan. This escalated as she followed Dan home, she constantly hit on him, and she invaded every bit of personal space Dan thought he didn’t have to start with. He wasn’t learning anything new, which also bothered him.

Dan wouldn’t usually complain about much, especially to his dad, since his dad had a high position at the agency. He definitely didn’t want to look like he was a bratty boss-pet to his fellow co-workers. 

So instead of complaining to his dad, he practically _begged_ him. 

Eventually, he got his dad to convince the rest of the agency to implement a different partnering scheme. Victoria — who didn’t seem fazed by the change at all — was paired up with a guy named Chris Kendall, and Dan got the person that Chris was supposed to have as a partner. 

Enter Phil Lester; four years older than Dan, and lover of lions. Dan was very pleased with the decision, as Phil seemed like a very nice person when he introduced himself. His dad explained that he got a new partner because the less experienced spies were supposed to be paired up with older, more experienced spies due to the new partnering system put in place. But everyone at the agency, including Dan, knew that it was because he had asked his dad to pull some strings. 

Dan remembered the first mission they completed together. The mission was to catch a hacker that was stealing information from the MI5. When they succeeded, Phil had invited Dan over to his flat to celebrate.

It was then that they bonded for the first time. It was a bit awkward at first, but after talking some more, they found themselves questioning how they weren’t already friends to start with; they shared similar music taste — primarily in their love for Muse, which they talked about avidly — and video games. They shared funny anecdotes about past work experiences, and awkward encounters with the public. They talked about their fears and worries with each other, finding similarities in their problems. Dan was an outcast and a dropout, and Phil was the weird guy everyone avoided, who had Chris as his only friend. They helped each other talk it through, and gave each other advice. They opened up to each other, which was something Dan hadn’t done for a while, let alone to a guy he just met. 

When Dan left his flat later that night, he had a feeling that Phil would be someone special. He got home and lay down in his bed, staring dreamily at the ceiling. This was when Dan realized it was one of the first times his face ached from smiling so much in a long time.

As time went on, everyone got used to the fact that the duo just clicked. They were almost inseparable, and did everything together; whether it was casual hangouts or taking down criminals. 

Throughout their career, they learned new things about each other every day from small habits to big aspects of their personality. Dan learned that Phil was an anime and cereal enthusiast, who dreamed of going to Japan and always wore mismatched socks. Phil discovered that Dan could play the piano and often had heavy thoughts in the early hours of the morning. Eventually, Phil could detect the sarcasm in Dan’s jokes when others couldn’t, and Dan could recite each crazy story Phil told by heart.

Things went up from there; they completed many missions together, and they developed their friendship with Chris — who was still Phil’s friend, but slowly became Dan’s as well — and computer genius, PJ Liguori. The four of them became the best of friends and did everything together. They were then named ‘The Fantastic Foursome’ by their colleague, Tyler Oakley. But Dan and Phil’s friendship with Chris and PJ was nothing like the friendship they shared with each other.

Eventually, in 2012, Dan moved out of his dad’s house and into Phil’s flat — a decision that everyone saw coming.

Dan and Phil climbed their way to the top from there, becoming the greatest duo of spies at the MI5 to date. Dan was always eager to jump into action, but Phil constantly reminded him to think things out first. Thanks to their strengths, they worked together flawlessly in the eyes of their other colleagues.

Things were perfect in both their lives.

Well, for most of it, now that Dan thought about it.

There was one thing standing in between Dan and eternal happiness; his love life. Primarily, his humongous crush on Phil Lester since the first day they met.

The fact that Phil was bisexual made him a little more hopeful, but the spark died out as soon as it was lit. Dan thought of  Phil as a ‘ladies man’, thanks to his incredible kindness and his happy demeanour. Even if Phil leaned towards guys, he knew it wouldn’t be him that he would choose.

Despite their chemistry, they were exact opposites — Dan was more like a tolerated rain cloud, and Phil was the sunshine everyone adored. They do say opposites attract, but Dan was never one to believe in society’s opinions and assumptions about how love works.

Dan looked out the window by his bed, reminiscing and smiling sadly, and watched as a shooting star zoomed through the night sky. He was a bit stunned at first; he’d never seen one before.

Seconds after, he closed his eyes as he lay on the bed.

 _‘Oh, how I wish he was mine,’_ he thought, smiling, _‘I don’t know anyone else who wants him more than me.’_

Little did Dan know that the journey to reaching his dream would be a little harder than anticipated 

\--*--

**_2010_ **

_The first time Dan fell in love with Phil was the night he caught Phil playing the ukulele under the stars._  

_He went outside to get his flatmate, since he had been out onin the balcony for a long time. Dinner had been made half an hour ago, and Dan was a bit worried, since Phil was a bit...off today._

_But when he came out to the balcony, all he saw was Phil, sitting alone, holding a brown ukulele in his hands, watching stars reveal themselves in the night sky._  

 _“Phil?”_  

 _Dan looked at Phil, who was plucking the ukulele’s strings. He still looked the same from when they arrested the person who attacked 10 Downing Street, where the Prime Minister lived. He had looked like he was out of focus and distant throughout the whole mission, which made him a bit concerned; Phil was never sad, or at least, not often._  

 _But there he was, on the balcony of their London flat, playing the ukulele._  

 _“Hey, bear,” Phil said with a smile, unfazed by the fact Dan had caught him playing. “Dinner ready yet?”_  

 _“It has been for twenty minutes,” Dan said slowly, walking out into the cool, summer breeze. “What are you still doing out here? I thought we were going to watch Buffy, and I’m 98% sure the food is getting cold.”_  

_Phil blushed. “Sorry. I just got caught up in the moment. Real nice tonight, huh? The sunset is just great.”_

_“Yeah,” Dan said after some hesitation, not sure how to respond. He sat down in the empty seat beside Phil as he watched him continue to play a little tune on the ukulele._

_“I didn’t know you played,” Dan said quietly._

_Phil looked down at the ukulele, and smiled, still strumming the strings._

_“Oh, my mom taught me,” he said meekly. “I had time.”_

_“You never play around me.”_

_Phil shrugged. “I don’t usually play for other people — no offense. And if I do play, I don’t usually feel the happiest, since it reminds me a lot of things I miss. I am usually happy around you, so I never felt the need to play, since you remind me of what good I actually have.”_

_Now it’s Dan’s turn to blush. Rather than thanking him, Dan felt the need to ask him more, even if his brain was telling him to shut up._  

_“Not happy today?” he asked._

_Phil sighs, as if he was anticipating the question. He fiddled with his thumbs; a nervous tick Dan had noticed when he first met him._

_“One of my close friends died today,” Phil said quietly. “I found out before we started the mission. Cancer, they said. He…he was the first person to ever accept me.”_

_Phil didn’t want to cry; he was older, and he always felt a need to be the stronger one of the two, since Dan was so insecure and both of them knew it. But now he was crying, and Dan was holding him in his arms._

_“Lion, I’m so sorry. It’s okay to cry if you want to.”_

_And that’s what Phil did. He cried the tears he had held in all day, and Dan was there to talk him through it; from when the sky started to fade, to when their dinner went cold._

_“Play something,” Dan urged him when the sky grew even darker. “It might make you feel better. Plus, I want to watch.”_

_Phil smiled. “Okay...only a little, though.”_

_Dan matched the smile on Phil’s face. Phil positioned his fingers, and began to strum up and down, a single chord floating in the air._

_“What shall I write?” Phil sang quietly. “What can I say? How can I tell you, how much I miss you…”_  

_Dan listened as Phil quickened the pace of the song._

_“The weather here has been as nice as it can be,” Phil’s voice was soft, yet so passionate, and Dan didn’t even know if that was possible. “Although it doesn’t really matter much to me!”_

_Phil smiled when he saw Dan swaying his head a bit. “For all the fun I’ve had while you’re so far away; it might as well rain until September…”_

_Dan hummed along to the song, grinning._  

_“My friends look forward to the picnics on the beach,” he sang, “yes everybody loves the summertime!"_

_He grinned as he looked at Dan. “But you know, darling, while your arms are out of reach, the summer isn’t any friend of mine!”_

_The pace quickened as Phil strummed the chords of the song, sneaking a glance at Dan every now and then. He seemed to be enjoying it, which made Phil happy._  

 _“It doesn’t matter whether skies are grey or blue, it’s raining in my heart ‘cuz I can’t be with you! I’m only living for the day you’re home to stay!”_  

_Phil’s voice echoed in the night as he finished._

_“So it might as well rain until September!”_

_The last chord echoed in the background as Phil finished and Dan smiled at him, who blushed under his stare._

_“That was amazing, Phil,” Dan said honestly. “You’re amazing.”_

_Phil grinned as he hugged Dan. “Thank you, Dan. You don’t know how much that means to me when I hear you say that.”_

_Dan said nothing as he just smiled behind Phil’s back, enjoying every second as they hugged tightly under the stars._

\--*--

“Did you get some milk the last time you went to Tesco’s?” Phil asked the next morning, interrupting Dan mimicking the guitar solo of ‘The Handler’. He smirked and added, “I mean, I have to ask you, since I can’t stand the fact you’ve been singing the bassline to the song. Your vocals haven’t improved much.”

“Shut up,” Dan said, blushing. “You aren’t any better.”

“Touché,” Phil shrugged, tapping his foot to the beat of the drums. 

They continued to listen to Matt Bellamy’s amazing vocals, and Dan looked out the window, seeing a blue sky as they passed by a local park.

“Phil, stop the car,” Dan said, and Phil frowns.

“Why? Did you see another person pickpocket? I told you once and I will tell you again; we are a part of the _MI5_ , not the London police squad. We deal with professional criminals, not silly wallet-stealers—”

“No, just stop the car,” Dan repeated. “Stop it at the post there.”

Phil just looked at the time flashing on their car’s dashboard.

“Dan, I know you hate working, but we are going to be late if you don’t tell me what is going on, I am going to––”

“Just _please,_ ” Dan asked, which seemed more like pleading to Phil.

He sighed, and pulled up to the post and turned off the engine. When he saw that Dan wasn’t getting out of the car, he looked over at him incredulously.

“So what was it that was _so_ urgent that you made me stop the car?”

“Look, Phil,” Dan whispered, smiling, and Phil could see the sparkle of light gleaming in Dan’s eyes. “It’s beautiful.”

“What?” Phil asked, confused. “What’s so beautiful?”

“The sky,” Dan gushed. “The sky, the sun, the birds, the grass, and the kids playing around in the grass. There isn’t a single cloud in the sky, and it is just _beautiful._ ”

Phil smiled a bit. “You know, you’ve been like this since this morning. Did you have a good dream or something? Or is this your cryptic way of saying to me ‘let me take a day off?’ If so, it isn’t working.”

“You know, Phil,” Dan said with a smile, “I did have a good dream last night. Actually, I had a _fantastic_ dream last night.”

“Well, little Miss Sunshine, I would love to admire the cloudless sky on a day where we _don’t_ have to file papers and criminal records. Sounds good?" 

“And you are usually the one who scolds me for being so work-y.”

 _“Work-y,”_ Phil said through air quotations, “is just my way of saying that I want to get paid.”

Dan chuckled. “Drive the car, Lester.”

Phil turned on the engine and began to drive to the headquarters. During the ride, they jammed out to Muse, and when they left the car, they were smiling as they walked into their departments. Nobody asked why, but apparently, their smiles were contagious.

\--*--

Their day continued without any major interruptions as they filed papers and documented recent cases while listening to music through earbuds. The two of them worked quietly, but together as always — that would never change.

Eventually, it was their lunch break, and as they were heading to the break room, they were stopped by two familiar faces.

“Hola, amigos!” Chris said, sliding in front of the two boys out of nowhere. PJ came up beside him, smiling.

“Hey guys!” Phil chirped. “What are you doing? Do you want to go out or something? Maybe a restaurant? Our treat.”

Dan paled at the thought of buying everyone lunch at a restaurant, and before he could open his mouth to protest politely, Chris stopped him.

“No can do, Philly!” he said with a wink. “Me and Peej-y boy over here are gonna treat you guys! You guys did such a good job yesterday. We’re going to go to Starbucks for a little celebration!”

“Continuing with the white girl pledge, I like it!” Dan joked, and Chris rolled his eyes. PJ looked at the two of them and grinned at their goofiness.

“Alright then, lads,” he said in an over-dramatic British accent. “Let’s dilly dally on outta here!”

“That’s not what British people sound like!” Phil laughed. “But I’m not going to complain since you guys are buying us lunch.”

“Anything you said, right?” Dan questioned. “Even a—” 

“Grande caramel macchiato, with a cake pop, since it’s Friday, and you always like a chocolate cake pop on Fridays.” Phil finished with a smile. “Yeah, I’m sure they’ll accommodate.”

“We will now,” Chris said with a smile.

PJ nodded as they continued to walk out of the headquarters.

On their way there, PJ smiled and looked at Dan and Phil slyly. 

“You know, I’ll never understand where you guys are relationship-wise; you are always together, and you memorized each other’s coffee orders to a schedule,” PJ remarked. “If anything you guys are practically a married couple. 

Dan and Phil blushed, and Chris burst into laughter, patting PJ’s back as they walked into the quiet Starbucks.

\--*--

They sat down in a booth far away from most people. They conversed for a while, talking about movies and new events. Chris looked around for a few seconds before leaning in closely.

“Look, guys, one of the reasons I brought you all here is to talk to you about a...certain case that I have been looking into.”

“Okay, first of all,” PJ interrupted, “you don’t have to lean in and whisper like that; I know we’re spies and all, but you are just making this a bit...cliched, Chris.”

“Peej, can’t I do something without you criticizing it?” Chris complains.

“Second of all, you aren’t supposed to be talking about ‘ _certain cases_ ’,” — PJ air quoted the words, which made Dan snicker — “in the public. You know you are breaking lots of rules and you could probably get fired.”

“Says you, goody-two-shoes.” Chris retorted. “You don’t remember the time that you hacked into the MI5 computer system just so you could play a Muse love song for a special crush?”

Chris wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. Dan’s eyes widened.

“You were the one who played ‘Aftermath’ on Valentine’s Day two years ago?!” Dan almost yelled. “That was the greatest moment of all history, but I’m pretty sure that Felix is pissed about it.”

“Did it work?” Phil asked curiously. 

PJ gritted his teeth in mock-frustration, avoiding Phil’s question. “Whatever you have to say, Chris, say it now, before I rip out your throat.”

Chris smiled, but continued anyway.

“As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted,” — He glared at PJ, who raised his hands defensively — “I am investigating a new case involving a threat to London. From what we know, they are a duo of murderers, who have already killed three people; including _Victoria Tailors.”_  

Dan nearly spat out his drink.

“ _Victoria?_ ” he said in shock. “You mean the same Victoria I used to be partners with? The Victoria that was your partner until she got fired for leaking out MI5 secrets and stuff? Like, crazy stalker Victoria?”

“Geez, man, how many people in your life are named Victoria?” PJ said.

Dan rolled his eyes, but Phil leaned in closer, intrigued.

“So Victoria — your partner before she got kicked out — was _murdered_ by those two people?” 

“Presumably, yes,” Chris said, sipping his own coffee.

“How can you be so sure?” Dan whispered. “For all we know, the three crimes could be totally unrelated to each other.” 

Chris shrugged. “For starters, all their deaths were really...gory.”

Phil frowned. “What do you mean by that?” 

“Well, each murder had some sort of gruesome touch,” Chris explained. “The first victim had their eyes ripped out, and people say that the person in charge of the investigation fainted at the sight, and never returned to work.”

“Spooky stuff,” PJ scoffed. Chris smiled sarcastically. 

“Yeah. The second victim’s arms and legs were ripped out of their sockets and cut until they were disconnected from the body. We found the victim with a bunch of their limbs around them.”

Dan actually _gagged._ Chris nodded at the reaction.

“And the third victim was Victoria.” All three of them exchanged fearful looks. Chris continued. 

“Her heart was cut out, and the murderer left an ‘x’ shaped wound.” Chris winced at the thought. “I had to be at the crime scene as well.” 

“I might actually be sick,” Phil groaned.

“That’s not all, though.” Chris said. “Recently, we found out that the second victim and Victoria were raped before they got killed.”

“That’s horrible,” Dan murmured from behind his drink. “I know I joke about Victoria being a huge stalker and all, but she never deserved that." 

“What colour do you think her jeans were?” Phil joked, attempting to brighten the mood.

His joke fell flat, and he just coughed awkwardly. Chris rolled his eyes.

“Since these murders involved a recent member of the MI5, Felix said that the duo is now a threat we should be investigating instead of the police.” 

“What? Really?” PJ complained, pulling out his phone and searching the murderers up. “Why can’t the police just do it?”

“I think I just explained that, Peej,” Chris said, rather annoyed as he sipped his coffee.

Dan smirked as PJ tried to Google the murderers. “Well, kudos to the serial killer; not only did they kill people, but they get Stephen King points for originality.”

Everyone groaned at Dan’s remark, and Dan just drank his coffee sheepishly.

After a few seconds, PJ looked up from his phone screen.

“Okay, Chris, your two ‘murderers’ have been inactive for over a month,” PJ said. “They haven’t done anything for a while, so maybe the London police department could handle it now.” 

Chris sighed. “But Peej, I really think this is important.”

Dan shrugged, downing the last of his coffee. “Like PJ said, it isn’t a job for the MI5 anymore. If it was, we could just let the London police handle it.”

Chris scoffed, muttering, “Fine, don’t say I didn’t warn you guys though.”

Phil patted Chris’ back. “Well don’t say that, Chris. I know you think this is your big break, but maybe just let it subside for a while. If you get more information, I promise I’ll help you.”

Chris smiled, looking at Phil. “Thanks, Phil.”

“So will you side with Phil, or are you going to continue heart-eyeing him?” Dan said jokingly.

Chris rolled his eyes and thought about it for a second. He leaned back in his chair, sighing.

“Fine.” Phil beamed at the words. Chris hastily added, “You guys don’t come running to me when your arms and legs get ripped out and your eyes fall out of their sockets.”

“I’ll be sure to haunt you when I die,” PJ retorted, and Chris’ annoyed behaviour disappears with a laugh.

They continued to talk for a while before Dan caught Chris glancing at his watch.

“Did you happen to paint the murders, Chris?” Dan asked, and Chris looked up in confusion. “Why are there splotches of red paint on your watch?”

Chris looked at his black watch to see the spots of red. He blushed significantly. 

“No, but I was painting last night to calm my nerves about the new case.” he said hastily. “I must’ve got some on my watch.”

“Chris, sometimes I think you take your ‘painting hobby’ too seriously.” PJ laughed. Chris found himself blushing for the second time in the conversation.

“Speaking of time,” Chris said, standing up. “We’ve got to get back to headquarters. I think there is something waiting for the happy couple.” 

Dan and Phil exchanged looks — they won’t even bother correcting them anymore — and PJ just winked at them.

“That’s a surprise for when we get there!”

Phil looked at them in confusion, and Dan, now intrigued, followed PJ and Chris out of the Starbucks.

\--*--

They got back to the headquarters late. Dan looked at Chris with an annoyed expression as they walked into the building.

“Chris,” he whined, “I can’t believe you made us late!”

“How is this my fault?” Chris retorted as they swiped their key cards at the entrance.

“Well, you just _had_ to go into the place with the scented candles! I told you we’d be late, but you just didn’t listen, did you?”

“They were appealing candles, alright?”

“No offense, Chris, but I don’t think using ‘ _Fireside Treats’_ as an excuse for being late is the best idea, despite it smelling so good.” Phil said, sighing. “Felix will have our tongues if he knows we were late.” 

“Hey, I had to stall for time somehow!” Chris defended himself.

Dan and Phil shared a confused look as PJ led the three through the halls and to the big conference room. Phil frowned when he realized where they were going. 

“Um, Peej? I think we are supposed to go up. Dan and I still need to finish documenting some cases, and we’re late enough.”

PJ smiled as Chris opened the door to the big conference room. Dan and Phil’s eyes widened when they saw what was waiting inside for them.

“Happy fiftieth case, Dan and Phil!”

Dan and Phil beamed, looking at all their friends tooting party horns and throwing confetti. A big sign hung in the air, saying “Happy fiftieth Case!” Louise Pentland, one of their closest friends, stood in the middle, and then walked up to the two of them and hugged them tightly.

“Surprised?” she asked with a big smile.

Dan then turned around to see PJ and Chris’ smirking faces. He looked at them accusingly. 

“You sneaky shits!” he exclaimed. “You guys took us to Starbucks to stall us!”

“About time you figured it out, Dan!” PJ said with a smile. “We were worried you and Phil would use your super spy skills to ruin the surprise.”

“I feel a bit stupid and proud now,” Phil said, chuckling. “How did you guys know we had our fiftieth case? Not even _I_ knew.”

“I was the one who told them!” Felix broke through the crowd to shake Dan and Phil’s hands. “As head of your department, it’s my job to keep an eye on these kind of things.”

“I didn’t think you’d pull something like this off, especially since we were late today,” Dan said. “How sweet of you guys!” 

“Oh, don’t worry; you and lover boy will pay for your tardiness tomorrow.” Felix laughed. 

“Why is everyone saying that today?” Dan hollered, throwing his hands up in the air. Felix patted him on the back. 

“Hey, you know what they say; once you hit fifty cases, you are practically a married couple. Don’t you remember Alfie and Zoe?”

“We’re right here, you know?” Alfie said from the back of room. Phil smiled.

“So you guys planned this all for us?” he asked. “That is so awesome! Thank you!” 

“Well, to be honest, it’s just so we can have an excuse to drink the hidden stash of alcohol that Chris brought in,” Felix whispered with a wink. 

“Then what are we waiting for?” Dan cheered, catching the bottle of beer that PJ threw in his direction. “Let’s get this party started!” 

\--*--

“Let’s get this party started,” Dan muttered, mocking himself, standing against the wall. “Like that was going to happen. As always, Phil is out there socializing, and you are trying to get yourself wasted.”

He watched as Phil talked animatedly with some blue haired girl near the middle of their ‘dance floor’. She was laughing at something he said, and he was smiling widely.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

Dan turned to his left to see Louise, holding an empty glass and flashing a tiny smile. Dan rolled his eyes and stared straight ahead. 

“Hilarious,” he deadpanned.

“What’s got you in the dumps?” she asked. “This is basically you and Phil’s big day. Shouldn’t you be with him?”

“I want to get drunk and forget that he is even my partner,” he muttered quietly. “He’s too good for me. I am pathetic, pining for someone like him.”

“I think you’ve had a bit too much to drink anyway,” Louise said, slightly concerned. “What happened to your party alter-ego? ‘Let’s get this party started’ Howell?”

“First of all, this is my first beer. I’m not near hammered yet,” he said flatly, pulling his drink closer to his chest. “And second of all, that guy vanished once he realized what a social loser he was.” 

“What has gotten into you?” Louise scolded. “You should be happy that you and Phil completed so many missions together! You should be happy in general. Tell me, Dan, what happened that made you so sad?”

Dan sighed, spinning the bottle around in circles by its neck.

“Well...I came out to Phil last night when we were arresting Jason DiCaprio. Then he told me he was bisexual while listening to Green Day in the car.”

Louise’s eyes widened. “Oh my god, seriously? That’s amazing…isn’t it?”

“Of course it is,” Dan said, looking down. “I was freaking out internally when I heard it too. I was really happy, don’t get me wrong, but now, while looking at him with some girl, it makes me realize that I don’t stand a chance.”

“Dan, you don’t stand a chance because _you never told him how you feel,_ ” Louise pointed out, stretching every word. “Maybe Phil would admit his feelings as well if he knew you felt the same way.”

“He can’t admit anything that doesn’t exist,” Dan sighed. 

“Don’t say that, love,” Louise said, patting his back. “You guys know each other more than anyone else. If anything, you guys are soulmates.”

“As if,” Dan muttered.

“It’s true, Dan,” Louise said with a small smile. “That’s why you should tell him how you feel as soon as you can. Do it for your own mental health, at least.”

“Louise,” Dan whined, but before he could continue, she just shut him up.

“Dan, I know you are good at this spy stuff and all, but even if you are able to hide from other people, you can’t hide from him.”

Dan just stood there quietly before nodding confidently.

“You know what, you’re right,” he said bravely. “I’m going to tell him. Right now. Like a fiftieth case gift. I’ll tell him _right now._ ”

Louise grinned. “Better walk the walk, Howell.”

He faced Phil’s direction and gulped at the sight of him laughing with the girl. He then turned back.

“I think I’ll need another beer for this, since mine is starting to run low,” Dan said quickly, about to walk away before Louise pulled on his shoulder, turning him around.

“Go!” she exclaimed, pushing him towards Phil. Dan yelped, carrying his empty beer bottle and taking a deep breath. He walked up to Phil and the girl.

_‘Don’t fuck this up, Dan. There is no way you can fuck this up. Don’t fuck this up—’_

“Hey, Phil!” he blurted, his voice cracking. Dan nervously fiddled with his beer bottle as he leant against the counter. “How you doin’?” 

Dan didn’t want to exist anymore; was that a fucking _Friends_ reference?  Luckily, Phil didn’t seem to notice him. He frowned, looking at him curiously, and realized that the music's probably too loud for him to hear.

 _‘Or it could be that girl’s laugh,’_ he thought bitterly. 

To get Phil’s attention, he coughed loudly. Phil turned his head to see Dan and his smile grew.

“Dan!” he exclaimed. “Glad you’re here! I was looking all over for you; a party isn’t a party without my fifty-cases partner, now would it?”

Dan could tell Phil was pulling the ‘help me I’m socializing but it’s not really working’ card on him right now, so he just played along. 

“Yeah, same,” Dan said, faking a smile. His eyes wandered to the girl with short blue hair.

“So who’s your friend?” Dan asked, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to act a bit interested. “I like her hair.”

The girl beamed, but Dan recognized that smile as the one you pulled when you weren’t interested in anyone’s opinion. Hell, he practically _invented_ that smile. 

Phil didn’t seem to notice. “Oh! This is Cat Valdes. She has been officially working here for a month after her training. She was actually recommended to the agency by Chris, and she’s his new partner.” 

This sparked Dan’s attention. “Really? That’s great! Chris never told us. He has been single in the MI5 for so long; it was about time he got a new partner! Did training treat you well?”

Cat smiled, swishing her beer around. “Yeah, it did! But you know, four weeks of training really knocks someone out, you know? Like, _bam!_ ”

She laughed at every extravagant hand gesture, her breath reeking of alcohol. She’s definitely wasted, Dan thought, but by now he’s too overtaken by curiosity to even care. 

“Four weeks? That’s strangely quick for a selection process; mine took six weeks.”

“Well, I had Chris helping me out and stuff, and time flies when you’re having fun, huh?” she shrugged. Dan was still confused, but he let it go, figuring Chris was as desperate to have a new partner like he was with Victoria. Still, he made a mental note to ask Chris later. 

“Anyway,” she said, slurring a bit. “Fifty cases, huh?”

Phil was quick to answer this with a proud smile. “Yup! Dan and I have been partners since 2009. I never realized how many missions we completed together.”

“Yeah!” Dan added, faking a smile as he wrapped his arm around Phil’s shoulder tightly. “He’s all mine, you know? He’s great.” 

Cat smiled, a bit confused. Phil looked just as perplexed, but seemed to take it as a compliment as he just flashed another smile.

“I just don’t know how you guys did it,” Cat then said with a sickly sweet grin. “Phil is really out of your league, you know?”

Dan laughed for a minute, thinking she was joking. He then saw the shocked look on Phil’s face — and the serious look on Cat’s — and his smile vanished as fast as it came.

“W-What?” he squeaked. 

Cat looked down to inspect her nails casually, leaning a bit too much on Phil. “Well, Phil, for one, is _way_ more experienced than you. All you are is Mr. Understudy-With-The-Emo-Haircut

“Cat,” Phil said slowly, before he was interrupted by Cat, who patted him on the back. 

“Plus, Philly here is a true gentleman. Every guy should be like Phil. The world needs _more_ people like Phil.” 

Phil looked apologetically at Dan, but he was too angry to care. Rage bubbled up inside him, and he didn’t know if it was the alcohol or his own emotions, but it was enough for him to speak up. 

“At least I’m not Miss Tipsy-After-Three-Drinks,” Dan snapped back.

“Dan!” Phil exclaimed, horrified. Cat’s eyes widened.

“Excuse me?” she replies loudly, catching attention from a crowd.  

“That’s right, _smurf head!_ ” Dan retorted, mentally face-palming at the comeback. “A-And also? You should grow a bladder. I think you just wet your dress.”

Phil cocked his head forward in shock as Cat’s cheeks flushed red. She peered down at her black dress, and saw a small stain in front of it. She huffed. 

“I spilled wine on it earlier!” she pouted.

Dan smirked smugly, not believing a word. Phil was struggling to come up with something to say as the crowd slowly broke apart.

Phil wasn’t the only one who was astonished; Dan couldn’t believe he had actually said that. Since it was too late to apologize, he just crossed his arms.

“So there!” Dan added rather half-heartedly. “Take that!”

Sensing the tension, Cat looked at Phil, then Dan. She just rolled her eyes.

“Wow, I better get some ice for those burns,” she muttered sarcastically, swiping Dan’s nearly empty bottle out of his hands. “I’m sorry. How ‘bout I get you another bottle of beer? I think you need one.”

The annoyance in her voice was very evident, but Dan couldn’t be bothered to point it out. He just gave up, muttering an incoherent ‘thank you’ under his breath. She strutted away, pushing through the crowd.

Dan smirked in accomplishment, looking at Phil.

“I showed her, am I right?” he said, grinning as he raised his hand for a high-five. Phil just looks at him, shocked. Dan then closed his hand into a fist, “Fist bump?” he asked hesitantly.

“Dan!” he hissed. Dan meekly lowered his hand. “Are you out of your mind? Why the hell would you say something like that? Do you not realize how embarrassing that was?”

Dan looked at Phil in disbelief. “She said you were out of my league!”

“Dan, stop being so immature; she was _drunk_ for goodness sakes!”

“Jesus, Phil, you’re being unreasonable. She was basically trash-talking me at _our_ own party, and your excuse for her is that she was fucking _tipsy?_ ”

“Maybe I should tell her to cancel _your_ drink because I think you’ve had too much!” Phil replied. He immediately regretted his words when he saw Dan’s face fall. He sighed. 

“Honestly, Dan, she didn’t mean it whatsoever. She was intoxicated. No one means anything when they’re intoxicated.”

“How do you know?” Dan crossed his arms petulantly. “She could be telling the truth for all we know.”

“Why would that matter? You know that’s not the truth. 

“Isn’t it, Phil?!” Dan snapped. “Every fucking word she said was probably something that crossed your mind!”

Phil looked at him, hurt and shock in his eyes. “What are you saying, Dan? That’s not true at all.”

Dan bit his lip, trying desperately to hold all his emotions in.

“You know what, this isn’t a conversation I want to be having here. Honestly, have a fucking _grand_ party for something you deserve more than I do.”

Dan turned around, but he heard Phil’s voice behind him.

“Dan, stop being a baby!” he heard Phil yell. He stopped in his tracks. “You always run away from your problems and it’s not fair!”

“You know what’s not fucking fair, Phil?!” Dan screamed, turning back around to face him. Phil’s eyebrows raised at his angry outburst. “It’s not fair that you are siding with her!”

“I’m not siding with her, Dan! You’re being unreasonable!”

“It’s not my fault you fancy her!”

Phil looked at Dan, eyebrows unfurling and lips gradually parting as the realization slowly hit him.

“Dan, are you... _jealous?_ ” he asked slowly.

Dan threw his hands up in the air in frustration. “I have every right to! Do you see how close she was to you?” 

His voice went higher as he mocked her. “Oh, I’m Cat _fucking_ Valdes! It took me only four weeks to finish the selection process because I’m better than Dan Howell! And oh, Philly, you are a true gentlemen, _heeheehee!_ ” 

“She does not sound like that!” Phil retorted, but Dan eyed him incredulously. Seeing his reaction, Phil sighed.

“What the hell do you have to be jealous for?” Phil asked exasperatedly, trying to remain calm. “You’re not my boyfriend! And even if you were, you can be assured that Cat wasn’t hitting on me! I don’t see why you care anyway.”

“Phil—” Dan said, clenching his fists and visibly shaking. Phil didn't stop.

“If she fancied me, it wouldn't matter to me, and it shouldn't matter to you!” Phil cut him off, his anger rising. “Honestly, Dan, why the hell do you care about what she thinks of me?!”

“How about because I _fucking love you?!_ ” Dan screamed, and suddenly felt as if the whole party got quiet.

“Knew it!” Felix singsonged as he walked by the two.

Phil’s face went pale.

“Y-You...y-you...love... _what?_?” Phil spluttered.

“Of course I love you!” Dan said, throwing his head back. “Honestly, Phil, you are one of the smartest people I know. How could you be so fucking oblivious?!”

Phil was at a loss for words. Dan was panting, clearly exhausted from revealing everything. Once the adrenaline faded, realization settled in; he had just told Phil that he _loved him._

“Dan?” Phil asked softly. “Can we talk about this outside?”

“ _I’m_ going outside,” Dan muttered lowly. “You’re staying here to enjoy _our_ party, and I’m going outside to get some fresh air. When I get back, we’re going to forget this whole conversation happened.”

“Dan—” Phil started, and before Dan could leave, Cat came back with his bottle of beer.

“Here you go, grumpy pants,” she slurred. Phil shot him an apologetic look, but Dan just glared at her, swiping it out of her hands and taking a long swig.

Without saying a word, Dan shoved through the dancing people. Phil’s voice was drowned by the loud music, and Dan headed to the door leading outside.

Speechless, Phil looked in the direction Dan had gone. He didn’t even realize Cat was still with him until he heard her mutter, “Whatever, you two seem like fucking drama queers anyway.”

He watched her walk away as well.

\--*--

Dan finished his bottle of beer outside the headquarters on a bench, the cool night breeze almost drying his tears. It has been twenty minutes or so since he had admitted his feelings to Phil, and despite convincing himself it would all be okay, the regret still lingered.

 _‘You’re an utter and complete fool,’_ he scolded himself. _‘I can’t believe you did that. You...you fucking…’_

Dan blinked, yawning before he could finish his train of thought. 

 _‘You’re probably tired,’_ he thought. _‘Already been out here for twenty minutes; you must feel sleepy now.”_  

After debating awhile, he decided call a cab to go back to their flat. Maybe he could just leave and wait for Phil to come home so they could talk rationally about the situation at hand. Even if it wasn’t a great idea, he figured it was the best he could do for now — it made him feel comfortable, and he was too tired to think otherwise.

This comfortable feeling lasted exactly five seconds. 

After putting his beer bottle aside, Dan stood up and was immediately hit with a tidal wave of dizziness. He stumbled to the right, trying to steady himself. 

 _'You’re not that hammered, Dan. It’s probably just slow blood. Nothing big,’_ he reassured himself. 

Or at least, he _assumed_ he was thinking. The noises of the cars blended with his own inner monologue, making everything seem foggy and confusing.

Dan widened his eyes, watching his vision blur with black spots. As he blinked, his eyelids became heavier, and the ground beneath him swirled. He did his best to lean against a wall for support, but his heart was pounding, and it seemed more like he was slumping against it.

Everything around him was slowing down as he shook his head and blinked to clear the lines that appeared in his vision.

Through his eyes fluttering open and closed, he could see flashes of a masked girl dressed in all black with coloured hair.

Too tired to make any movements, he closed his eyes — but this time, he didn’t open them again.

\--*--

Phil finished up talking with some colleagues and glanced at the time. It’s been about twenty minutes since his conversation with Dan, and he decided that he had given him enough time to cool down. 

 _‘I should really talk to him,’_ he thought to himself. _‘Dan makes mistakes when he’s angry and drunk so maybe I can just talk it out with him…’_  

As he made his way out of the conference room, a familiar face slid into his view.

“Enjoying the party, Philly?”

Phil flashed a smile. “Chris! Hey! Didn’t see you throughout the whole party. I was actually going to step outside for a minute to find Dan—”

“Dan?” Chris asked, leaning forward, intrigued. “Is he not with you?” 

Phil thought for a minute before hastily answering, “No, actually. We got separated, but I figured that he’s probably outside, getting some fresh air. So excuse me—”

“Really?” Chris interrupted. “I don’t know about you, but he seemed pretty upset when I saw him.”

Phil is about to make some offhanded excuse to get away from Chris, but curiosity gets the best of him.

“He was?” he questions.

Chris nods, pursing his lips. “Yeah. He was storming past everyone as he drunk his beer. Probably got wasted, but he looked like it was for a reason; you know anything ‘bout it?”

“Chris, I need to go,” Phil says, shaking Chris off and making his way through the dancing people. Chris looks at him in confusion.

“Fine!” he yells from behind him. “I guess I’ll catch up to you later then!”

Phil didn’t mean to be so rude, but he had one objective in his mind, and it was to find Dan before anything bad could happen.

Unfortunately, the universe was against him, as everyone decided it was the time to talk with Phil, rather than doing it hours before this moment.

Dodging conversations with an apologetic smile, he rushes out of the conference room and paces through the hall towards the entrance. When he gets there, he stops outside the glass window to see who he was looking for — just not in the way he expected it.

He saw Dan, slumped against a wall. Phil frowned, debating if he should go talk to him, as he seemed very upset, but then something else appeared.

A girl with coloured hair — that wasn’t very visible in the dark — walked out of the shadows, practically pinning Dan to the wall. Phil was tempted to turn around, but, for some reason, he felt drawn to the scene.

The girl was wearing a black dress, but her facial details were hidden by shadows. Dan leaned his head back against the wall as the girl whispered something in his ear and stroked his hair slowly. 

 _‘Well, Dan moved on fast, didn’t he,’_ Phil thought, feeling a bit hurt and angry at the same time. _‘I guess he’s going home with her then. Better tell him to get the bedsheets clean after she leaves tomorrow morning...what a conversation we’ll have…’_

As the girl led Dan back to what he could only assume was her car, Phil sensed something was a bit off about the whole situation.

The black car was parked in the front of the headquarters between a few lamp posts, so he could finally see who the girl was. That was when he saw it.

The girl was wearing a black mask that covered her face, and a smirk was painted on her cherry red lips. She was stroking Dan’s hair as she pushed him into the car, and Phil’s eyes widened. 

Dan was knocked out, his eyes shut and the light that illuminated his face showed that he looked as if he were struggling to wake. Phil put the pieces together. 

Dan had been drugged.

Phil threw the glass doors open as he ran toward the car. 

“Hey!” he screamed. “What the hell are you doing?!”

The girl in black closed the rear door, and looked back at Phil, smirking. Phil couldn’t see the details of her face, but all he saw was her red lips. 

Phil sprinted towards the girl, hoping to land a punch on her, but then she pulled out a sleek black gun. His eyes widened and she shot at Phil’s feet three times. Phil yelped, stumbling and landing on his back.

The girl smirked, and ran to the driver’s seat to start the car. She turned the engine on, and Phil attempted to pull out his own gun from its holster.

All of the sudden, the glass doors swung open and Phil turned, distracted. A guy also dressed in black and wearing a matching black mask ran past Phil and swung himself into the passenger seat. 

Phil finally grasped onto the handle of his gun, but a moment too late — the car sped off, leaving a trail of dust, and Phil didn’t even catch the license number.

Phil just stood there, staring in the direction of the car. 

“Oh my god…” he murmured, running a hand through his hair. “D-Dan.” 

Phil wanted to cry. He let his own partner be kidnapped by two random people at a party after a stupid argument.

Never in his entire career as an MI5 agent had he felt like such a failure.

After he took a few deep breaths, he began to walk back into the headquarters, hoping to tell someone about what happened. Hearing a strange noise from below him, he looked down. His shoe had scraped against some sort of watch.

He frowned, kneeling down to pick it up and examining it, holding it up to the light.

The glass was a bit broken, but the hands were still ticking. The only thing that stood out was the splatter of blood against the black leather band. It sent shivers down Phil’s spine.

 _‘Whoever took Dan was definitely dangerous,’_  he thought, fear starting to really sink in.

He pocketed the watch and hurried back inside, hoping to find someone to talk to; possibly Louise, or Dan’s dad, if he could find him.

As he walked into the conference room, his phone buzzed. He pulled it out to see a string of texts from a blocked number. He frowned and slid it open, his eyes ghosting over the words.

_‘To: Phil Lester_

_From: anonymous (number blocked)_

_10:48 pm_

_we have dan. wasn’t that hard, considering what an idiot he was for taking a drink from a spiked beer. for someone who’s an MI5 agent, he is pretty stupid._

_since he’s here, we might as well have some fun with him, if you catch our drift. but we would be delighted to bring him back into your pathetic agency for one million pounds. all cash, we remind you; checks are just so much harder to work with._

_along with that, we’d also like you to resign from the agency; you don’t belong there anyway, considering you failed to protect your “partner in crime.” funny how arguments lead to such drastic situations, huh?_

_you can take as long as you want with the money and your official sign of resignation. but the more you wait, the more impatient we’ll become; you’re very lucky we decided not to send pictures just yet._  

 _oh! one more vital piece of information: tell anyone what you saw, and we will not hesitate to shoot dan in the head, and drag a knife down his chest. you’ve heard of our works of violence and murder; it’s something we like to take very seriously.’_  

Phil’s eyes widened as his chest constricted. He wanted to throw up — that was absolutely disgusting to read.

 _‘If what they say is true, I have to do this on my own,’_ Phil thought, debating whether to do what they said, or disobey and risk Dan’s life. 

Deciding to play it safe, Phil pocketed his phone with a sigh. He entered the room as if nothing had happened, running into PJ. 

“Phil!” PJ greeted with a smile. “Haven’t seen you or Dan much tonight; are you partying hard? Speaking of which, where _is_ Dan, anyway?”

Phil clenched his fists, wanting to spill everything. But he bit his lip and faked a smile. 

“Dan went home, saying he was tired,” Phil said through gritted teeth. “Might just go to catch up with him; tell everyone we said thank you for the great party.”

As Phil left, PJ looked at him with a frown...as if _that_ was the real story.

 --*--

When Dan opened his eyes, he was greeted with a dark room and a throbbing pain in his head. He shook his head, attempting to clear the lines flashing in his vision. 

After a few seconds, he took a minute to observe his surroundings. 

The room was dark, and the only source of light was the cracked window to the left to him –– it was letting in some wind that blew its tattered curtains to the side. The floorboards were broken and the walls grey and faded. 

He ducked his chin down, seeing a metal chair. Ropes were wrapped around his ankles, and his bound wrists had been pushed behind the back of the chair. 

 _‘So I’ve been kidnapped or something,’_ Dan thought bitterly. _‘Didn’t take too long for fifty cases to turn into fifty-one.’_  

Dan tried to recount the things that had happened before; arguing with Phil, admitting that he loved him — _‘that was really fucking stupid,’_ he scolded himself — and _Cat._  

Cat had given him a drink, but Dan realized that he had never actually seen what Cat did with his drink or where she had gotten it.

Dan mentally face-palmed; how could he be so _stupid?_ The first thing they taught you in _high school_ was to not accept drinks from strangers.

_‘She spiked my drink with some sort of drug. Why would she do that?” Unless…,’_

The door flew open with a bang, and light flooded in to reveal the silhouettes of two people. Dan blinked, trying to adjust to the sudden wall of light on his face.

 _‘Well that can’t be good,’_ Dan thought, fear sinking in.

\--*--

“You wanted to see me?” Phil asked, stepping into PJ’s office. He smiled, and added, “Wow, that sounds a lot like high school, _Mr. Liguori._ ”

PJ smiled a little, and nodded. “Well, keeping up with the act, why don’t you sit down, Phillip?” 

Phil laughed, and took a seat right in front of PJ.

“So what do you need me for?” he asked. 

PJ’s smile fell, but he covered it up with a fake grin. “Um, I actually wanted to talk to you about Dan. Specifically about last night.”

Phil frowned, scratching the back of his neck. “What about Dan? He went home last night; just like I told you.”

PJ sighed, spinning in his chair a bit. “Okay. Where is he today?”

Phil’s heart began to race, but he took a breath and just shrugged.

“He said he’s sick,” he explained casually. “He sounded like crap from his bedroom, and I didn’t want any of the people here getting sick. I told him to stay home and get some rest.” 

Phil paused, then said, “Not a problem, right? Besides, you’re not our advisor, so I don’t see why it’s a big deal where he is. He takes sick days almost all the time. You were never so concerned before anyway. Why now?” 

“Because I saw this,” PJ said, and Phil’s eyebrow perked up a little, clearly intrigued. PJ spun his monitor around on his desk and clicked his mouse.

Phil watched in shock as the events from last night played right in front of his eyes; Dan drinking, crying, before stumbling right into the hands of the mysterious girl. The screen showed Dan led into the car, and he saw himself run outside. The girl shot at his feet, and the other guy — most likely her accomplice — ran past Phil to escape in the car with the girl and Dan.

PJ paused the footage and Phil looked at PJ.

“Where did you get that?” Phil murmured, his voice barely audible.

PJ shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m a hacker, what do you expect?” 

Phil stood up and nervously paced the room, running his hand through his hair. PJ looked at Phil in concern; he had never seen Phil so distressed before. 

“PJ, you can’t tell anyone,” Phil said hastily. “They said they’d kill him. They said they would drill a bullet in his skull if I told anyone; _please_ promise me you won’t tell.”

“Phil, I promise I won’t tell anyone as long as _we_ can handle the situation,” PJ reassured him. “And please, stop pacing back and forth like that; you’re making me more nervous.” 

“We?” Phil echoed.

PJ smiled. “Are you going to start spilling some info, _partner?”_  

Phil grinned, grabbing PJ by the arm and pulling him into a hug.

“Thank you, thank you, _thank you, PJ_ ,” he said into PJ’s shoulder. “It means so much to me that you will help.”

PJ blushed, and he pulled apart, his hands resting on Phil’s shoulders. He smiled softly. 

“No problem.” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not a problem at all.”

\--*--

**_Now_ **

The girl assumes Dan is watching her in fear, but in reality, Dan is watching the flame in awe.

It flickers from side to side  with every breath that hits it, and Dan watches as the fire burns on through the lighter, mesmerized. In the dark, it illuminates the sharp glint in her eyes, her smirk prominent.

Dan snaps out of his daze when the flame is directed to the cloth covering his mouth. It makes contact and burns the cloth slightly, a black rim forming around the burnt area. Dan feels the heat through the thin material and winces. 

“You’re a smart boy, Daniel,” the girl leans in and whispers, lips grazing the burnt cloth. “You won’t have any trouble answering my questions, _right?_ ”

Dan doesn't answer and she nods, approvingly. She takes off Dan’s gag, and he takes a shaky breath.

The girl immediately begins her interrogation.

“So Dan,” she says, “I know you have friends at the MI5. Now I have a list of members of the agency, and I want you to tell me every piece of information you can about them. Where they live, their phone numbers, their departments, _anything you know that I can use against them.”_

“Well, James Bond is actually a hobo living in the attic of the headquarters,” Dan says sarcastically.

He pauses, feigning bravado. “You know, for a bad guy, you are pretty bad at...being _bad._ ”

The girl growls and punches the side of Dan’s face. His head snaps to his right from the impact, and he tastes blood in his mouth.

“Be serious with me, Howell,” she sneers, “Continue with the jokes and I’ll burn you to a crisp.”

Dan spits blood at her feet. “I’m not telling you anything. If you’re so smart, you’d hack the agent files yourself; if you can get through our agency’s top computer geniuses. You probably can't see the screen through your big head.”

She growls in anger, pushing the lighter into Dan’s shoulder. He grits his teeth at the pain, trying not to scream. She lets the lighter burn through his long sleeved button downed shirt from the party.

‘ _What a terrible way to waste such a nice and expensive shirt.’_

Through his haze of pain, he clenches his fist, watching the flame burn a small hole through the rich fabric and make contact with his skin. She kept the lighter pressed against him before deciding to up her game by dragging the flame down to his wrist. 

His brain tries to convince him that he can pull it together and act tough, but his body tells him that he just _can’t_. The fire singes through his skin, leaving an angry sharp, red line and exposed flesh along his arm. 

The girl smiles at him deviously. She pulls the lighter from his arm sharply, and Dan grits his teeth, sneaking a glance at the damage. He wishes he hadn’t. Some marks looked more burnt than others, a small crater of crisp, burnt skin at the top of his shoulder blade, along with the long, red line of exposed flesh through his burnt sleeve that ran across his arm. Dots of small burns littered his ashened skin; some of it bleeding.

The girl smiles, trailing her fingernail slowly down his burnt arm. He grimaces at the blood running down his skin, and closes his eyes.

“Now what will you tell me, Howell?” the girl asks sweetly. “Assuming that you aren’t going to want to cross me again, no?”

Dan, trying to ignore the pain in his arm, says nothing in response.

“Speak, idiot!” she yells finally snapping, slapping him across the face.

His vision blurs; her hand colliding with his eye.

“I-I don’t care how much you hurt me,” he says, trying not to stammer, “but it won’t change the fact that I’m not saying a word to you.” 

The girl hums, shaking her head as she flicks the lighter off. 

The light dies out, and Dan blinks, his eyes adjusting to the dark.

“Fine. Have it your way.” She smirks, lightly tossing the lighter aside. 

She places her hands on her hips, slowly walking towards Dan. She leans over him lithely, bringing her face close, her nose touching his. He can smell her breath, which still reeks of alcohol. He sneaks a glance at her eyes, which are covered by a mask.

 _‘I know her,’_ he thinks, trying to desperately rack his brain. 

The girl hardly notices the way Dan is staring at her. She just leans closer and closer until her lips are grazing his.

“Every minute of silence is the amount of minutes I’ll use to pound your bitch,” she breathes, her breath fanning across his face. He tries not to flinch. “And by bitch, I mean the fucking black-haired _pansy_ who can’t take care of himself.”

Dan snaps. He lunges at her, trying to break out of the ropes binding him.

“Don’t you _dare_ lay a finger on him!” Dan hisses, squirming in his seat. “You hurt him, _and I will fucking kill you!"_  

The girl chuckles. “Pulled your strings, huh, Howell? Did I go too far, aiming for sweet, ol’ innocent _Philly?_ ”

“Shut up!” Dan screams, his voice echoing through the empty room. “Shut up, whoever the hell you are! I don’t know what you get out of this, but you are _sick!_ ” 

“You telling me you don’t know who I am, _Mr. Understudy-With-The-Emo-Haircut?_ ” she purrs, stretching out her words infuriatingly.

Dan’s blurry eyes lock on hers, and she smirks in the way that’s become intimidatingly familiar to him, moving back to where she was once standing. Dan feels like the air is being sucked out of him. 

He doesn’t want to believe it. It couldn’t be her… It just couldn’t…

“C-Cat?” Dan stutters.

She laughs, throwing her mask down carelessly and picking up the lighter, flicking it on. The fire illuminates her face, revealing her features; brown eyes, cherry red lips, and shiny, light blue hair. She looks taller and skinnier than he remembers.

She’s wearing a slim, black, leather tank top, with black leather jeans covered in zips, and black heels, which made her look intimidating. The only pop of color he could see was her lips.

“Surprised, are you?” she says, enunciating the last word with a raise of her eyebrows and a smile. “I was wondering when you’d figure it out; your IQ must be lower than I thought.”

 

Dan narrows his eyes at her.

 

“You have everything, Cat,” Dan says, clearly still in shock. “You’ve got one of the best jobs in London, and it took you less time to get it than it ever took anyone. You could’ve been so great at the agency; even when you were drunk off your ass—” 

“I wasn’t actually drunk, idiot,” Cat interrupts, “I was acting.” 

Dan rolls his eyes. “Sure. I’m surprised you even _got_ me here with your beer-breath.”

“Don’t test me.” 

Dan sighs. “Why would you give it all up for something that you won’t get anything out of other than a life in prison or the possibility of death?” 

“You think I chose this life, Howell?” she snaps. “Not everyone has a perfect life, you know? I’ve gone through death. More than you’ll ever know. I’ve seen things I never wanted too, and you think I _chose_ to see them again?” 

“Cat, you don’t have to do this.” Dan says. “I know how you feel. I never had an ideal life. My parents were divorced, my mom was an alcoholic who favoured my brother, and even at the agency — one of the best jobs I could ever ask for — I am still treated like dirt for being ‘the boss’ son.’ You don’t know half of what I’ve been through, but you don’t have to feel like this is your only option.”

“ _I_ don’t know what _you’ve_ been through?” Cat laughs sarcastically. “I mentioned _death,_ Howell. I’ve seen the most important person in my life _die_ right in front of me. I saw blood spill on concrete floors. Blood _I_ shared with her. Then I saw the person, who I thought cared about me, _lie_ in my face and throw me out like garbage. Like I was _second best._ I’ve been through shit, Howell. Don’t you test me.”

Dan was silent, too stunned to speak. Cat nods, somewhat in approval.

“Bet you didn’t see that coming, now did you,” she deadpans, slowly unbuttoning her leather tank top. Dan’s eyes widen when she throws it to the side, and begins to undo her bra.

“Going to strip tease me, are you?” Dan says, trying to keep the sarcastic tone in his voice evident. “Like burning me and hitting me wasn’t _enough_ torture?”

Cat whistles, throwing her bra to the side. Dan tries not to look at her, but Cat sees him and smiles.

“Low blow, Howell.” She pulls off her tight pants and all that’s left is silk, black underwear.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Dan asks, his voice squeaking a bit.

Cat smiles as she takes off her underwear, now fully naked in front of Dan. The wind has conveniently pushed the door closed, but the small crack through the window allows extra air to run through Cat’s short hair. 

“You see, after I became apart of this little _‘duo,’_ ”  she air quotes. Dan rolls his eyes. “I’ve developed somewhat of a… _thirst._ A kind of lust, if you will. And with the last two victims, well you could say… I’ve... _played around with them._ ” 

Dan’s eyes widen in horror as what’s about to happen sinks in. She leans forward to loosen the ropes around his wrists and ankles. 

“I think you’ll be the most fun, Howell,” she says, licking her lips, her expression predatory, “I bet you’re a little slut when it comes to these things.”

Dan shudders. “D-Don’t.”

“What’s the matter?” Cat says sweetly. “Crossing the line, am I? If we _are_ continuing your stupid _Friends_ references from the party, which I definitely heard, by the way. ‘ _The line is a dot to us now’._ ” 

Dan grimaces, shaking and struggling when she begins to undo his pants.

 _‘This isn't real,’_ he thinks wearily, tears in his eyes. 

She slides his pants off, and he shivers, left exposed and vulnerable in his briefs and his burnt, white, button down shirt. She tugs at the shirt, mercilessly pulling apart the burnt remains. He feels sick, repeatedly murmuring for her to stop.

She doesn’t.

“Beg, Dan,” she whispers, “Beg for me to stop and I’ll see how I can make this a bit more... _enjoyable._ ” 

She strips off his underwear, and Dan wants to shrivel up and die. 

“Stop!” he begs, as she moves to his lap, brushing her hand against his dick. He winces at her cold touch, and Cat feels him shift to the side in discomfort.

Cat bites her lip, pressing the lighter against Dan’s thigh, marking the start to the unbearable pain he was about to endure.

\-- *--

An eternity passes, it feels like an eternity anyway. Cat finishes the deed, putting her clothes back on as Dan shivers in his chair, the cold metal pressing against his naked ass. He’s shaking, his ears ringing with Cat’s moans and his sobs.

As Cat tightens the ropes once more against Dan’s ankles and wrists, she whistles lowly. He seems to have lost all fight.

“I was right,” she says, her eyes twinkling. “ _This was the most fun I’ve ever had._ ” 

She looks at him, her expression unreadable, a small smile playing on her lips. It doesn’t take long before she’s pressing the lighter against his bare chest. Dan finds no strength to scream anymore, he whimpers. All he feels is the burning sensation in his cock and pain, so much pain. His cheeks are flushed, his hair pushed back, and a constant trail of tears fall down his cheeks.

 _‘I’ve been raped,’_ Dan realizes numbly. _‘I’ve been raped. After everything I ever learned in sex-ed class.’_

He was trying to revert to his humour to cope, to somehow make light of the situation, but all it does is merely act as a trigger for more tears. He feels so used and vulnerable.

Cat seems to like that. 

“Well, until your partner decides to cough out a resignation form and the million pounds, I guess I’ll be leaving you alone for a while,” she says with a wave of her hand. “Seeya, Howell.”

She struts off through the door, leaving it slightly ajar..

He can vaguely make out the silhouette of another man, kissing her cheek.

“Well done,” The man whispers.

He doesn't hear her response to the mysterious man, and Dan watches as her silhouette stiffens when the man comes closer; he can tell she’s either uncomfortable or upset, the fact giving him a sick sort of satisfaction.

His satisfaction is short lived as the reality of the situation hits him, all he knows is that he’s afraid. They broke down his walls to a point where he didn’t know if he could ever build them up again. 

 _‘I know you’re looking for me, so I’m waiting, Phil,’_ Dan thinks through tears, _‘I’m waiting, but I don’t know how long I can anymore.’_  

That’s when the door is pulled shut, and Dan is alone with only his thoughts at last.

\--*-- 

Phil has a headache; the only thing he can hear is Dan’s voice screaming for help, his cries pounding against his brain. He hates imagining him in a vulnerable position. But he can’t stop thinking about it. The thought of Dan being in any kind of danger made him sick.

“You okay, Phil?” PJ’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts. Phil’s eyes dart in his direction, and PJ waves his hand slowly.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Phil says, distracted by his own thoughts. “How are tests coming along? Any progress made yet, or even better, any new leads?”

“I have, actually,” PJ says. “Can you have a look at this?”

Phil nods desperately, and half runs over to PJ. He watches him shuffle papers on the desk to clear the table so that two papers with DNA samples are in focus. Phil flips through them as PJ begins to talk. 

“I may not be a scientist, but after a solid hour of testing and stuff in this cramped lab, I think I may have some leads on the watch; primarily the blood on it.”

“So before I say anything else, just to make sure I’m right, was there anyone else with the girl who took Dan?”

Phil nods.

“Yeah,” he replies. “There was this guy. I couldn’t see his face, but when the girl shot the ground thrice, he came rushing past me and into the passenger seat. I think it was a signal for him to get there; the girl and the guy were definitely working together. And I am pretty sure that the watch belonged to the guy, since it was closer to me. The guy was the only one that ran past me, so I assume it was him.” 

PJ nods at the information. “So that means there were two people?”

“Yup.”

“That’s great,” PJ says, before adding, “Well, not great that there are two people who kidnapped Dan, but it’s great that we have a lead.”

Phil rolls his eyes. “Get on with it, Liguori.”

“I shall,” PJ jokes, to which Phil just crosses his arms in annoyance. PJ coughs awkwardly, sipping his coffee as he pushes the papers towards Phil.

“According to these tests, the blood samples on the watch the guy dropped belong to three different people; Tasha Valdes, Steven Hoffman, and the one and only, Victoria Tailors.”

Phil’s eyes widen. “Victoria Tailors. Chris had said that she was murdered by that duo he mentioned earlier. The people who were responsible for the really gory deaths... ?”

“Yup, that’s them,” PJ says. 

“Why would her blood be on the watch?” Phil asks. “I mean, unless the watch belonged to the person who…”

Phil trails off, before realization hits him. PJ nods, leaning on the counter.

“Whatever you're thinking, Phil, it’s right.” PJ says with a sigh. “The people who took Dan were the same people who assumably murdered Victoria Tailors, Steven Hoffman and Tasha Valdes.”

Phil stares at the papers in shock, leaning over the counter and rubbing his temples.

“Those people committed one of the goriest murders to date,” Phil says, “And you are telling me that those same people have kidnapped Dan? Oh my God…”

“Phil, you’ll make it worse if you panic.” PJ says softly, rubbing his shoulder.

“How can I not panic, PJ?” Phil snaps. “Dan is the most important person in my life; to think that he is in the hands of literal murderers…it’s scaring me so much. They could have done so much already, Peej? They already told me that if I told anyone, they’d kill him. What if they knew I told you? What if Dan’s _dead_? Oh my god, Dan…” 

“Calm down!” PJ exclaims firmly, shutting Phil up. There are tears running down Phil’s cheeks and PJ sighs guiltily. He tries to gather himself, taking a deep breath. PJ tentatively takes Phil’s hand and massages the palm with his thumb gently.

“Dan’s strong, Phil,” he says soothingly, “and he’s probably waiting for you right now. I’m sure he’ll be okay, but if he was here, he’d tell you to focus on the task at hand and not worry about him.” 

Phil sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“That _is_ what he’d say,” he admits his voice still choked up, “Dan would probably tell me to ‘get my head in the game,’ then I’d laugh at his crappy _High School Musical_ reference.”

“There you go,” PJ says quietly, “ ‘ _Get your head in the game’ ._ ” 

Phil laughs shakily, his eyes crinkling. PJ smiles.

“You look cute when you laugh.” he blurts out. Phil smiles wider, murmuring his gratitude, and PJ blushes.

Phil’s eyes return to the papers, and the name ‘Tasha Valdes’ stands out the most.

“Tasha Valdes...Valdes...where have I heard that before?” Phil mutters to himself, taking the paper and going to a computer. Phil logs in, and begins typing. PJ frowns, following him to see what Phil has found. 

“Why are you searching up Cat Valdes on the MI5 agent profiles?” he asks, curiosity building up inside of him. Phil looks at the paper, and then at Cat’s profile.

“Tasha is Cat’s sister,” Phil says, “and the people who have Dan murdered her.”

“Oh my god,” PJ says, running a hand through his hair. “That’s horrible.” 

“Cat never mentioned that she had a sister, let alone have a _dead_ sister. And this Steven guy is listed on her Facebook page as her ‘crappy ex-fiancé’. He had a girlfriend — assumably before he was murdered — according to his Facebook profile, but it doesn’t say who.”

“So Steven Hoffman and Tasha Valdes both have a relationship to Cat somehow,” PJ concludes. “Interesting. I guess we’ll have to talk to Cat when we see her.”

Phil nods silently, turning off the computer, his exhausted mind still trying to desperately piece everything together. He yawns. Looking at the time he stands up.

“I have to go home,” Phil says. PJ frowns. 

“You can stay after hours if you want,” PJ replies, “I can make sure no one knows.”

Phil shakes his head. “I would love to continue, but I think your break ended a while ago, and my shift is done. I don’t want you to get into anymore trouble; I’ll make sure to tell Dan’s dad where you’ve been so Felix doesn’t pester you about it.”

“But—"

“It’s fine, Peej.” Phil cuts him off. “It’s probably best that I get some rest anyway.” 

PJ sighs. “You’re right, who am I to stop you? Go home, take a nap, watch TV, whatever. I’ll clean up around here, and we can pick up where we left off later.”

Phil smiles. “Thanks, PJ. You’ve been a big help.”

“I’ll try to see if I can find anything else!” PJ chirps before Phil can walk out.

Phil grins. “That would be great, Peej.”

With that, Phil walks out the door, and PJ just looks in the direction he left in, slightly dazed.

“You’re welcome, Phil,” he murmurs, blood rushing to his cheeks as he smiles. One word that doesn’t end up leaving his lips is _“Anytime”,_ and all PJ can do is sigh sadly.

\--*--

Hours later, in the middle of the night, Phil still isn’t home. He feels a bit guilty for lying to PJ, but for some reason, he can’t handle the fact that’d he’d have to go home and Dan wouldn’t be coming home with him, or greeting him when he walks through the front door.

So Phil has been everywhere in the city that _isn’t_ home. He’d gone to the park for a while. Scrolled Tumblr on one of the computers in the local library to try and get his mind off things. He’d been to Starbucks and in between ordering his usual caramel macchiato he felt too choked up to continue. Dan’s favourite drink…

He ended up at a different coffee house and a order of a black coffee with a muffin on the side. He walks around the city, and one hour away from home becomes six.

Before he knows it, it was already twelve, and Phil finds himself on the street leading back to their flat. He doesn’t recall how he got there, but his feet are aching and his head is pounding, so he figures that it was his body’s natural instinct that told him ‘Go home’. 

He looks down at the concrete, his heart aching; he has to go home _eventually._

So he walks, knowing that he’d rather walk for another ten minutes than to walk around in circles for another hour.

Halfway through his way back, his phone buzzes in his pocket. He frowns, and pulls his phone out to see that there are multiple texts from an anonymous number.

His eyes widen; it’s _them._  

Phil fumbles through typing in his password, cursing himself for being so slow, and finally unlocks his phone, loading up the texts. 

_‘To: Phil Lester_

_From: anonymous (blocked number)_

_12:14 pm_

_dan’s okay.’_  

The first text message surprises him so much that he doesn’t know if he should keep reading or not. 

Dan’s _okay._ Someone, he isn’t sure if it is the same ‘someone’ who kidnapped Dan, but whatever; he’ll take it, knows that Dan is fine. He’s shaking.

Things aren’t matching up, and Phil finds himself asking more questions: why would the kidnappers tell him that? Why would someone go out of their way to tell him this? _Who_ messaged him?

The string of texts continue.

_‘...Alright, confession; he is kind of okay. i won’t lie to you when i say that some of his strings have definitely been pulled. His limits have been tested, some even broken. needless to say, he is alive, but inside, he is barely pulling through._

_Hope that doesn’t dampen your spirits though, and rather pushes you to try and do something other than walking around for six hours. Like, come on, man; your partner has been through shit and you’re buying coffee?’_

Phil clenches his fist. How _dare_ this person talk to him about Dan that way. It was scary enough to think this person has Dan held captive, let alone was watching him and knew what he was doing. 

However, the text makes Phil reconsider his actions guiltily; it’s already been more than a day since Dan was taken, and the only progress they’ve made was finding the blood samples of people who’ve already been killed and the knowledge that dangerous people have Dan.

His phone buzzes again.

 _‘Don’t be discouraged, blue eyes,’_ the text goes on, _‘you do have evidence, don’t you? I know you have the watch. I know you found blood on it, and by now you probably know whose it is. Remember where you saw one of those? Remember hard enough and you have one of your biggest leads yet. But take your time if you want to; Danny-boy over here will wait up if you will too.’_  

The person stops texting, and Phil doesn’t want to know what would happen if he texts back. His mind echoes the texts as he scrolls to the top and reads it over and over again.

 _‘This person knows about Dan,’_ he thinks, _‘Surely this must be a sign that someone is helping me. Do I know this person? More importantly; can I trust this person?’_

Phil closes his phone and pockets it once more, beginning to walk towards the flat.

 _‘They know about the watch.’_ Phil stops in his tracks. _‘Why did they tell me to remember it? I’ve seen dozens of black watches, let alone bloody ones at crime scenes. What is so special about this one…?’_

His phone buzzes again, and this time, he pulls it out to realize it was a call.

Anxiety floods him, and he presses answer before he can check the number; was it them calling him to continue helping? Was it the people who took Dan?” 

“What do you know—" 

 _“Phil?”_  

Phil is caught mid-sentence at the familiarity of the voice. Blood rushes to his cheeks as he mentally slaps himself.

“Mr. Howell!” Phil’s voice comes out as a squeak. “Always a pleasure hearing your voice.”

Dan’s dad chuckles. _“As with you, Phil. Why are you up and about at this time of day? It must be dark outside.”_

Phil frowns. “How do you know I’m outside?”

_“I do now.”_

Phil finds himself blushing again. Dan’s dad laughs.

 _“No, I could hear the wind,”_ he explains, _“Even a super cool spy like me couldn’t figure that out without the proper evidence.”_  

Phil musters a laugh that barely matches Dan’s dad’s.

“You got me there, sir,” he says nervously.

 _“For the last time, Phil, it’s James, not sir. You don’t have to address me so formally; you’re practically family to the Howell household.”_  

Phil smiles softly. “Thanks, Mr. Howell.”

He could hear the sigh on the other side of the line, but Mr. Howell doesn’t even bother to correct him again.

“So…,” Phil says, “why’d you call?”

“ _Well, it’s actually about Dan.”_

Phil’s breath hitched slightly. 

“What about him?” he asks, trying to hide the worry in his voice.

 _“I want to know where my son is.”_ Dan’s dad demands, his friendly voice from earlier disappearing. Phil’s hand shakes a bit.

“He’s at home,” Phil lies hastily. “Has been all day.”

_“Not according to the CCTV surveillance footage that PJ had shown me before he left at the end of his shift. And the fact that he was in the lab all day didn’t help either.”_

“Dammit, Peej,” Phil mutters under his breath.

Dan’s dad sighs. _“Don’t blame Liguori; I caught him watching the footage on a computer in the lab, and basically interrogated him. He probably feels more guilty than you do for lying to me.”_  

Phil closes his eyes and takes a breath.

“I’m sorry for not telling you, sir—” He pauses, before correcting himself; “ _Mr. Howell._ It’s just that... it’s been a bit hard for me. And the case was a bit new, so I wanted to know everything I could first.”

_“I got to say, Phil, I’m a bit disappointed that you didn’t tell me earlier. This is my son that has been kidnapped, and his mother would cut my throat if she knew that the job I offered him — the job that also took him away from her — had ended up being the job in which he’d be in danger.”_

“I would’ve told you if I could, Mr. Howell,” Phil explains, “I’ve gotten a few...rather _disturbing_ messages that threatened Dan’s safety if I told anyone. I don’t know if they knew I told PJ, and I wanted to make sure it stayed that way. Little to no one can know that Dan is in danger, or else his life could be on the line. 

Silence follows, before Dan’s dad finally replies.

_“Thank you, Phil. I’m sorry for being so rude. The whole fiasco just has me a bit worried about Dan. He was so prepared for being an MI5 agent, and I was always so afraid it would wind up with him in a dangerous position.”_

“I can assure you that the whole situation is being taken care of,” Phil says, “PJ and I have been gathering everything we could about the whole thing. We may not have as many leads as we’d like to, but we are certainly trying to work as fast as we can. 

 _“What do you know so far?”_ Mr. Howell asks.

So Phil sits on a bench near a bus stop and recalls the information as hastily as he can manage about everything that has happened in the last twenty four hours; from what happened on the day of the kidnapping, to the DNA samples on the watch, and to the cryptic text messages he’s been receiving.

 _“While the information you and Liguori found is quite impressive,”_ Dan’s dad says at the end, _“I think I can step in now. I can have a whole team on Dan’s trail, tracking every message and clue that could lead to him, and—"_

“Please don’t,” Phil says, cutting him off.

_“Phil, I think it’s the only option.”_

Phil runs a hand through his hair in frustration.

“That’s exactly why I won’t let you do this,” Phil explains. “I need more than one option on how to approach this situation. The last thing I want is a big team to go after him and get Dan killed. I already said that PJ knows, and now you know, and I want to keep it that way. I’d really appreciate the secrecy on this one; it could save Dan’s life.”

Dan’s dad stays silent for a while, before taking a deep breath.

_“Fine. I’ll let you and Liguori handle this one. I want to know every major lead you guys come up with when it comes around.”_

“I’ll keep you informed,” Phil promises. 

 _“Thank you.”_  

“I really wish I knew what it all means,” Phil says sadly, his elbows digging into his knees. “I want a bit of closure on the whole thing. It’s getting me really stressed.” 

 _“Don’t stress yourself on it, Phil,”_ Mr. Howell sternly says. _“You may not have a big team, but you have a fantastic agent working on this case with you, and you are a very smart man. You’ll figure this out eventually; just take a break for a while.”_

“But—”

 _“No but’s,”_ he says. _“Take a day off tomorrow with PJ so you can have a whole day to figure some of this stuff out. Just don’t expect to solve this whole thing in a day; go home, get a good night’s sleep, and I’ll send Liguori to your place so you guys can get a fresh start. Understood?”_

Phil smiles. “Understood. Thanks, Mr. Howell.” 

_“Anytime, Phil. Have a good night.”_

He is met with the dial tone, and he sighs; that could’ve gone a lot worse.

Phil stands up, checking the time he realizes that he must have been on the phone for a solid half hour. He decides to head back, and in less than five minutes, he’s at the foot of their apartment building. 

He trudges up the stairs and into their dark flat. He doesn’t bother turning on any of the lights; he moves slowly into his bedroom and flops on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

 _‘What a day,'_ he thinks wearily.  _'Thank God it's over.'_

After an arrangement of weird thoughts, somehow his thoughts all lead up to the moment at the party with Dan. 

 _‘He said he loved me,’_ he thinks, _‘but do I love him back?’_

They’ve always been ‘just friends’. That’s the label that he has struggled to put on their relationship since the day he met him.

His mind reminds him of one lazy night in London, in which he and Dan were walking in the park, discussing their future. It was in early 2013, and Phil remembers it as if it were yesterday.

 _“Where do you want to be in five years?”_ Phil had asked him.

He remembers Dan’s cheeky smile. _“With you.”_

 _‘We could get married; it’s legal, after all,’_ Phil finds himself thinking, _‘We could retire from the MI5 early to spend all our life savings on travelling the world. Just like he wanted. We could have kids. We could grow old together. We could—’_

Phil stops thinking, because deep inside, he knows he has found his answer 

 _‘I love him_.’

“I always loved him,” he murmurs quietly.

After another minute of staring at the ceiling, he begins to drift to sleep.

_‘When this is all over, Dan, I’ll tell you. I promise.’_

With that final thought, his breathing becomes slower, and his eyes flutter shut. He lets sleep overtake him, and before he knows it, he’s dreaming.

\--*--

“Open up, Phil!” a voice yells from Phil’s bedroom door. “A new dawn, a new day, and new leads to find!”

Phil stirs, sitting up to rub the sleep out of his eyes. Doing this, he realizes that he had slept with his contacts, and as a result his eyes are burning.

“Goddammit,” Phil mutters, going over to his dresser, popping out his contacts with great difficulty and putting them in a case. He slips on his glasses and stumbles to answer the door.

When he opens his bedroom door, PJ is standing right outside his room, wearing a bright graphic t-shirt and jeans. Phil jumps a little.

“Jesus Christ, PJ,” he says tiredly, “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Mr. Howell told me to come here.” PJ pauses, before adding, “Well, more like _ordered_ me to get you out of bed and start using our free day.”

Phil yawns. “He told me you’d come. But how did you—”

“—get in here?” PJ laughs, finishing his sentence. “I used the spare key hidden in the houseplant outside the front door. Not too creative, by the way.”

Phil shakes his head, shuffling to the kitchen in hopes of making a coffee.

“You’re unbelievable,” 

PJ shrugs. “So I’ve been told. Can you pour me a mug?”

“Break into my flat, wake me up from a peaceful slumber, and take my coffee supply? My, oh my,” Phil mumbles, but despite PJ’s snickers, he prepares two cups of coffee. 

“By the way, Phil, make those coffees to-go; we’re heading to my place, where I’ve left my laptop with info I found last night, and where all my high-tech hacker stuff is.” 

Phil rolls his eyes. “When you say ‘high-tech hacker stuff’, are you trying to say your wifi is better than mine?” 

“In my defence, it is; your downloading speed won't even come _close_ to mine,” PJ retorts.

“Whatever,”  Phil slides a coffee mug across the counter to PJ,  “I’m going to get dressed.”

PJ claps his hands together with a smile Phil doesn't know if he likes or not.

“Fantastic,” he says.

\--*--

They get to Brighton by train and take a cab to PJ’s flat. His housemate, Sophie, isn’t home so they have the whole flat to themselves.

“Make yourself comfortable,” PJ says with a smile.

“You’ve cleaned up here, have you?” Phil chuckles, and PJ rolls his eyes.

When they finish setting up in the lounge about an hour later, they settle down, and Phil tells PJ about the cryptic messages he got the night before.

“So you got another threat,” PJ says after hearing it. “Nothing weird about that.” 

“I think this is different, Peej,” 

“How so?” he asks. Phil shows him the texts.

“When I got the texts, they were coming at a fast pace. The ones that were threatening Dan were slower, which leads me to believe that the person who wrote these texts was in a rush to send them in,” Phil explains.

“Or this means they’re a really fast typer?” PJ points out.

“That’s besides the point.” Phil points to the messages. “What they said was more interesting, as these texts seemed more... _helpful,_ than threatening. Just look at them!”

PJ skims over the messages, looking up at Phil. 

“That is a bit suspicious,” he says, “but maybe they are just trying to throw you off track…?”

“I don’t know, Peej,” Phil says nervously, “I honestly think that there are two different people behind these messages. One of them threatened to kill Dan; the one that _has_ him. And the other is trying to help us; someone who knows about what’s happening to Dan.”

“Maybe we should keep investigating first, Phil. We need more evidence—"

“Did you _read_ what they said about him?!” Phil snaps. “Did you hear what they said?! ‘His limits have been tested; _some broken._ ’ They’re hurting him, PJ, and I can’t help him!”

Phil’s words tumble out a mess of anxious rambles, and his breathing speeds up. PJ grabs his hand reassuringly.

“Alright, alright. I won’t be able to track the numbers, since they’re blocked and it’d take me longer to do without the proper equipment — which I do not have, by the way — but I _can_ find out if they are from two separate phones, if it makes you feel better—"

Phil takes a deep breath, cutting him off. “It would. Thanks, Peej.”

“—but there’s a catch.” PJ adds. Phil groans. 

“Seriously, Peej? I know you; this isn't that hard. What do you want me to do? Your laundry?”

“I want you to _calm down_ and take a break for a while,” PJ says, looking at Phil. “You have been so stressed for the last two days. I can tell you slept late last night with your mind on Dan; don’t deny it.”

“But—”

“No excuses, Phil.” PJ cuts him off. “I want to find Dan as much as you do, but your mental health will _not_ go down with this case. Dan will wait.”

“Are you serious, PJ?!” Phil yells at him. “Dan is being _tortured_ right now for all we know. He could be on the brink of death, waiting for us to come. And what are doing?! _We’re having a vacation!”_

“Phil—”

“No, PJ! I can’t have people telling me to relax when my partner is in the hands of _fucking psychopaths!_ ”

PJ steps back. Phil isn’t much for swearing, but hearing him cursing like that makes him pause.

Phil seemed to realize what he had said as well, and looks at PJ apologetically.

“Sorry, Peej,” Phil says meekly.

PJ shrugs. “S’fine. I just hope you realize that you are making me nervous about your sanity.”

Phil chuckles lightly. “You’re right.”

“You are too,” PJ says, looking down, “Dan isn’t waiting. I shouldn’t have said that. I understand the danger he’s in, and I want him back as much as you do, but he would also want you to _be okay_.”

Phil nods quietly. PJ sighs.

“How about this; I’ll run the tests, and when I’m done, we take a break for a while. Grab some beers, pull out a movie, and just relax.”

Phil’s mind is very keen on not stopping until they found something, but he reluctantly agrees. 

“Fine,” — PJ grins. Phil rolls his eyes — “but as soon as the movie ends, we’re going to get back to business.”

“Assuming that you aren’t drunk off your ass,” PJ retorts, and Phil just laughs, nodding.

“No drunk people on the job,” he agrees.

“Well I’ll start running some tests then!” PJ says happily. “It may take a while, since I’m running multiple tests to get the most accurate results, so you can take a walk or something.”

Phil opens his mouth to protest, but closes it when he sees PJ’s hopeful smile. He sighs, closing his eyes.

“I have better beer at my place; I’ll take a train back to London, and I’ll go rent a movie or something.”

PJ rolls his eyes. “Alright. I’ll wait for you at your place?”

“Yeah, sure,” Phil says, a bit distractedly, “I’ll see you in a few hours then.”

As Phil walks out of the flat, PJ smiles a bit. 

 _‘I have a date with Phil Lester,’_ he thinks, clearly excited. 

 _‘It’s not a date,’_ his conscience argues. _‘It’s just a way to get him to relax.’_  

PJ frowns. _‘Let me be happy, dammit.’_

The sound of a cab driving away snaps PJ out of his thoughts and he smiles softly.

\--*--

It takes an hour for the train to get to London, and another hour to get to the place where Phil often rents movies. On his way out of the shop, he gets a text from PJ.

_To: Phil Lester_

_From: PJ Liguori_

_12:57 pm_

_Just finished running tests. Been a tiring two hours, but I think I found something you’d like. I’m driving there, so I’ll meet you at your place at around 3?_

Phil replies, “sure thing,” and PJ answers seconds later with a smiley face emoji. Phil smiles, and is about to pocket his phone, before he realizes someone he has been neglecting for a while.

Chris. 

He notices that everyone closest to him knew about Dan’s whereabouts except for Chris. Phil wonders if he should tell Chris, even if it contradicts everything that he had said to people he was trying to hide from.

But it’s _Chris;_ his first friend at the agency. And he had been working on the case involving the people who had kidnapped Dan. Phil felt a little bad for ignoring Chris’ concerns involving the case, so he figured the least he could do is say that he was right. Besides, he didn’t _have_ to tell him all the details if he didn’t want to.

After he takes a thirty minute cab ride to get near his place, he walks towards his flat. On the way there, he pulls his phone out of his pocket and dials Chris.

Chris answers on the first ring.

_“Hello? Chris Kendall, at your service!”_

Phil smiles. “Hey, Chris! It’s Phil.”

 _“Phil!”_ Chris sounded out of breath. _“Long time since we chatted! And when I say ‘long time’, I mean two days. Ha!”_

Phil chuckles. “You sound tired. What are you up to?” 

Chris laughs. _“I...went for a jog. Ate a chicken that could be the size of a horse for lunch, so I decided to burn some off these flops on my belly.”_  

“Productive,” Phil says sarcastically..

_“Very.”_

_“_ So, uh, Chris,” Phil says, rubbing the back of his neck, “remember that case involving the two murderers you said you were investigating?”

Phil could hear the hesitation in Chris voice before he answered.

_“Uh, yeah. Why?”_

“Well, turns out they are on the roll again, and it’s more… _dangerous_ , this time.”

 _“Did Felix put you up to the mission? He couldn't trust me to finish the job, huh?”_ Chris teases. 

Phil frowns, feeling a bit guilty.

“I was hoping you didn’t feel bad about that,” Phil says apologetically, “PJ and I would really appreciate your help.”

 _“Would you now?”_ Phil could hear Chris drumming his fingers against a table. 

“Chris, don't be like that,” Phil whines. Chris laughs. 

 _“I’m kidding, Lester, of course I’ll help; as long as Felix is okay with me joining you guys.”_  

Phil bites his lip nervously, pressing a button on a streetlight and waiting to cross. 

“Actually, this one is more of a... _low-key_ mission.”

_“Ah, I see. Mr Goody Two Shoes is going against Felix’s orders, huh?”_

“Felix doesn’t even know this investigation exists,” Phil explain, walking across the street, “I need this case to be absolutely confidential. You in or not?”

 _“I don’t know, Phil,”_ Chris replies. _“As much as I’d like to join you and Peej on this one, I don't think it’s a good idea to go against Felix.”_

Phil frowns. “Chris, you were so eager on getting this case solved; what changed?”

 _“Felix called it off today,”_ Chris says quickly. _“Said the same thing you guys said before the party: ‘the London police will handle it’.”_

“But Chris, we think we have some leads—” 

 _“Just don’t get too close to the case, alright?”_ Chris interrupts as Phil gets closer to his flat. _“I don’t want you to get wrapped up in business that might put you in danger. I don’t want you getting in trouble with Felix as well...that would suck, knowing I had something to do with it as well.”_

“Chris—” 

_“Look, I have to go.”_

Phil sighs as he pulls out his keys.

“Alright. Thanks for the heads up, Chris. Have a great day,” he says flatly.

_“You too. Good luck on the case.”_

Phil is about to hang up when Chris’ voice pipes up again. 

 _“Oh, and I heard Dan’s sick,”_ Phil’s eyes widen at the name. “ _Tell him that a pack of ‘get well soon’ Maltesers are coming his way when I next see him––”_  

“I will.” Phil cuts him off before he could suggest anything. “Have a good day, Chris. See you tomorrow.” 

Chris’ laugh is the last thing he hears, and Phil hangs up before he could hear any more of his jokes. They’d usually help in situations like these, but for some reason, they weren’t helping now.

Phil pockets the phone, and with his hands in his pockets, he goes into the apartment building, going up stairs to make his way to the front door.

To his surprise, PJ is sitting outside the door, and Phil could hear the _Undertale_ soundtrack blaring loudly through his earbuds.

“Peej?” PJ turns his head, pulling the earbuds out of his ears and pausing the music.

“Phil!” PJ beams. “You’re here! Thought you’d take forever. I parked in the back about ten minutes ago, by the way. Do they give tickets here?”

Phil shrugs quietly. “Don’t know.”

PJ nods, and Phil decides against telling him about Chris, and instead asks something else. 

“You know I have a spare key in the houseplant, right?” Phil says, confused. “You certainly didn’t mind using it this morning; I don’t see why you didn’t decide to use it this time.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Phil shakes his head. PJ’s eyes twinkle. “I said I would wait for you _outside_ your flat. Besides, I had authorization earlier.” 

“No you didn’t, but whatever, Peej,” Phil says, opening the door and going up the stairs, PJ following.

“So what movies did you rent?” PJ asks.

Phil smiles. “ _My Neighbour Totoro_ and _Spirited Away_.”

“They have those at the movie rental place?” PJ says, a bit shocked.

“I told you that is the best place ever,” Phil says with a smirk. “Way better than that discount shop you go to.”

“I suppose,” PJ says. “Though I thought you already had a copy of _My Neighbour Totoro?"_  

“I do,” Phil says as they walk into the lounge, “but I lent it to Dean, who is watching it for the second time so Jack could watch it this time as well.”

“I see.” PJ grabs the disc and slips the it into DVD player. 

Phil grabbed a case of beers from the freezer and puts it on the coffee table. He opens a bottle and takes a swig, wincing a bit at the bitter taste, but smiles after taking another sip.

“So what did you find about the texts?” Phil asks, raising a bottle to PJ for him to get. The movie loads up on the TV as PJ joins Phil on the couch, taking the beer with a smile. 

“Well,” — PJ cracks the bottle open and takes a sip, putting his feet up on the table — “I did run tests, which failed to break through the anonymous numbers, so I can’t track them.”

“That’s the good news you told me about?” Phil questions.

“Of course not,” PJ says with a roll of his eyes. “I’m a computer _genius,_ remember?”

Phil chuckles. “Don't get so full of yourself.”

PJ smiles. “The good news is that the best I can do is see if I can identify the sender of both series of texts; or at least find out if the texts you got last night are from the same people who sent the texts at the party. I just need to wait for the program running the tests to finish, which should be by tomorrow.”

“So that’s it?” Phil asks, frustrated. “We have to wait for tomorrow?”

“Unfortunately, yes. I’d love to speed up the process, but this is the fastest I could go. If we are going to continue anything else, we’ll have to begin tomorrow.”

“It’s 3:30,” Phil whines, “We have _so_ much time to do something.”

“Yeah, but that’d be pointless,” PJ retorts. “Plus, you promised you’d take a break.”

Phil, now thinking of what PJ had said and what Mr. Howell said, sighs and nods wearily. PJ takes it as a victory.

“Fine,” he mumbles. “Let’s focus on the movie before I change my mind.”

The opening sequence begins. Phil takes another swig of his beer, and comes to the decision that if he can’t do anything to find Dan, he’ll do anything he can to _forget_ about him, and any feelings associating to him.

\--*-- 

Somehow, there is another widow spider on the web near the door. Dan watches it through the darkness, and as the spider crawls along the web, Dan realizes that he isn’t watching it the same way he did before.

He’s cold, and it isn’t even because he was still naked. Cat came back earlier to torture him again, burning him and beating him, and now he was left with fresh bruises on his stomach and burns along his arms. 

But ever since Cat raped him — it still felt so disgusting and surreal, to say the least — he felt hollow and empty. The walls he built up to block his kidnappers from breaking him have fallen down, and he doesn’t feel like he could build them up again. Dan knew Cat made a smart move; she made him _afraid._

The door slams open, and the poor widow spider doesn’t live to see the light, 

 _‘Perhaps he joined his friend in a place better than this,’_ Dan thinks to calm his nerves.

Dan expects it to be Cat again, ready to tease him again.

Instead, it’s a man, who is wearing all black, along with a matching mask over his whole face, rather than just the eyes, like Cat’s. His hair was greasy and pulled back, each strand visible.

He’s carrying some clothes, and from what Dan could see, it looked like ripped jeans and a dirty, white t-shirt.

“You look like a disgusting animal,” the man says, shutting the door close and stepping over the widow spider’s dead body.

He circles Dan, and the voice makes Dan’s thoughts race; where did he hear that voice before? Was this the guy who kissed Cat? He could barely remember if he was at the party or not…

The man slaps Dan, catching him by surprise. Dan winces, a tear already slipping out. The man looks at Dan closely, patting his tear-stained cheek. Dan could see his dark eyes peeking out of the mask. 

“So you’re a cry baby too, huh?” Dan stiffened at his cold touch. “Don’t worry; I’ll make sure I can dress you up for your partner’s arrival...if he ever comes.”

“He’ll come,” Dan manages to say. He realizes his bad choice seconds after; the man grabbed his messy hair through his fingers, and slams his head back with force. Dan cries out loud, his neck automatically sore.

“Did I say you can talk, Howell?!” the man roars.

“N-No,” Dan stutters. The man swings a punch to Dan’s bruised stomach, and he huffs, grasping for air.

“Not so tough now, are you?” The man smirks, pulling out a knife. Dan’s eyes widen in fear. “Pathetic.”

Without warning, he yanks Dan’s hand and drags the knife across the palm of his hand. Dan closes his eyes, gritting his teeth at the pain. He could feel blood drop onto his bare legs, and watches it run down to his feet. 

He doesn’t go too deep, and when he’s done, Dan realizes he has drawn a broken heart. He looks up at the guy, who begins dabbing the excess blood with the t-shirt.

“You’re.. _.fucking crazy._ ” Dan grits out.

“I’m just mad _,_ Howell,” the man replies, getting down to his knees to untie Dan’s ankles. “I am just a mad, _mad_ man.”

He goes around Dan to untie his wrists, and he breathes out in relief; the rope was burning into his wrist and ankles, so he was glad it was gone.

The man grabs Dan by the bloody hand and yanks him down to the ground. Dan grunts, his knees hitting a jagged floorboard, and they begin to bleed slowly.

“So Dan,” the man says as he forces him into a shirt, “I wonder if your partner will finally get the message when his job at the MI5 is done and my money comes through.”

“They won’t give you the money,” Dan growls, narrowing his eyes. 

The man laughs. “Good! It’d be an even better message when he finds your skin all chopped up into small pieces.”

He yanks Dan up, and practically stuffs him in the jeans. When he’s done, he kicks Dan into the nearest wall. Dan groans at the new blurriness in his vision.

He watches as the man taps his finger slowly against his wrist.

“I had a black watch, you know?” he says, spitting at Dan’s bare feet. “Unfortunately I lost it, but I gained one gift instead.”

Dan could see the man’s pearly white grin. Dan visibly shudders.

“It had all my victims’ blood on it; every drop from when their limbs were ripped out, to their chests being carved by heart. I feel like it symbolized a lot; a circle of disappointments that all relate somehow in the end.”

The man lowers himself to Dan’s level, watching blood trickle down his nose. He leans in to whisper in his ear.

“Too bad the last person in the puzzle won’t be on the watch.” 

Dan’s eyes widen. Everything was piecing together in his foggy mind. 

The voice. 

The watch. 

“I-It’s _you…”_ Dan stammers. 

The man cackles, and he slams Dan’s head in the wall again. Dan can’t take it anymore and lets darkness consume him; it’s for the best. 

\--*-- 

Five beers each, one pizza, two movies, and three _Friends_ episodes later, Phil and PJ find themselves talking on the couch at around 9, their minds hazy and their eyes focused on each other rather than the TV.

“Man, are we fucking _wasted,_ or what?!” PJ exclaims, wrapping his arm around Phil. 

“I dunno, man, I think I still need some more,” Phil says, frowning. “I just want to forget everything. I want to drink until I never remember that I am crippling lonely.” 

PJ looks at Phil. “Are you crying, man?”

Phil feels his cheek to realize that tears were falling down his cheek.

“Is that why I feel so wet?” Phil sniffles. “My god. I want to forget everything now. I want to get so drunk, I won’t remember my name.”

“You’re not lonely, dude!” PJ pats his back. “You have Dan, you have Chris, you have a family, and more importantly, _me_!”

He laughs, and Phil shrugs.

“I just want something more, Peej,” he says quietly. “I want someone I can snuggle, and someone I can kiss goodnight, and _my god_ I want someone to have sex with! I haven’t had sex in ages…" 

PJ smirks. “You want sex, Philly?”

Without warning, PJ pulls Phil by his t-shirt and kisses him. Phil’s eyes widen, and he tastes mint mixed with the taste of beer on PJ’s tongue.

His mind hazy with the effects of alcohol, he leans into the kiss, cupping his hands on PJ’s cheeks. PJ smiles, and Phil feels himself smiling too.

“Come to my bedroom,” Phil breathes when they pull apart to catch air. PJ just nods, lust filling both of them as Phil pulls PJ with his lips, moving towards the bedroom.

He slams the door closed and pushes PJ onto the bed.

Phil’s conscience is screaming at him. 

 _‘This is wrong!_ ’ it reasons, _‘You love someone else, dammit. You don’t love PJ; you love—’_  

“Should we?” Phil finds himself saying. 

 _“Baby we both know the nights were mainly made for saying things we can’t say tomorrow day,”_ PJ replies. 

Phil grins. “You’re obsessed.”

“No I’m not; I am just really good at pulling out music lyrics. 

Phil laughs and pulls off his shirt. He quickly kick off his jeans and then undoes PJ’s shirt. PJ moans.

So Phil does exactly what he wants to; _he forgets._

\--*--

Phil wakes up the next day with a headache and beside PJ. He looks at the clock beside him. It’s flashing the time; _11:21 AM._

 _‘I_ _must’ve slept in._ ’ he thinks, standing up before he sees it.

He is  _naked,_ and so is PJ. 

He yelps, jumping out of the bed. His eyes dart over PJ, who is sleeping soundly. Shocked and confused, he grabs his clothes off the floor and frantically slips them on, watching PJ as he stirs in his sleep, not waking up.

 _‘Oh my god, I slept with PJ,’_ is the only thought that runs through Phil’s mind. His heart is pounding more than his head. _‘I had sex with one of my best friends and I can hardly remember it!’_

Phil runs out of the bedroom, feeling an urge to throw up. He quietly closes the door to let PJ sleep.

He makes his way to the kitchen, rubbing his ruffled hair and making himself a coffee. As he pops two Advil pills out of the capsule, guilt begins to rise.

 _‘I got drunk, had sex with PJ, and I don’t even love him!’_ Phil thinks as he swallows the pills and downs it with coffee. _‘To make matters worse, the person I actually love is in the hands of the most dangerous people in London at the moment, and I got drunk?!’_  

“Idiot!” Phil moans, slapping his forehead.

He carries his mug outside to the lounge, and sets it on the coffee table as he begins to pick up beer bottles.

All of the sudden, his eyes land on something beside his mug.

 _‘PJ’s laptop,’_ his mind tells him.

Phil opens it, types in the password PJ told him, and saw that the program that was running to track the messages has finished.

He looks through the results and realized that the two strings of texts were from two different people.

 _‘So there is someone texting me who is helping me, and there is someone texting me that is trying to hurt Dan,’_ Phil thinks, piecing things together. _‘More importantly, someone knows about Dan’s safety, and wants to help me find him. But who?’_

He flops onto the couch, leaning against the cushions. He desperately tries to fit puzzle pieces, but nothing was coming together.

Phil’s mind then wanders to what the person had said about the watch that he found the night that Dan was kidnapped.

 _They told me I saw it before,’_ he thinks, running a hand through his hair, _‘so where did I see it before?’_

A conversation suddenly replayed itself in his mind.

_‘Did you happen to paint the murders, Chris?” Dan said, and Chris looked up in confusion. “Why are there splotches of red paint on your watch?”_

_Chris looked at his black watch to see spots of red. He blushes significantly._

_“No, but I was painting last night to calm my nerves about the new case,” he said hastily, “I must’ve got some on my watch._

Phil shoots up and goes through PJ’s backpack, and to his luck, finds the watch in a ziplock bag.

The spots of blood on the watch were standing out on the black, leather band. 

_“Why are there splotches of red paint on your watch?”_

_‘Red paint…,’_  Phil’s eyes widen in realization.

 _‘It can’t be…,’_ Phil thinks, _‘It can’t be him…’_

Suddenly, something on the couch vibrates. He frowns, standing up, and realizes that he was sitting on his phone.

 _‘Must’ve left it on the couch last night,’_ he thinks, picking it up and sliding it open. 

The phone unlocks and reveals his text messages. He looks at it in confusion and sees that he has a new text. He opens it and reads it quickly. 

_‘To: Phil Lester_

_From: 020 - 3761 - 6097_

_11:29 AM_

_i think this has gone too far. so hurry up before it’s too late; i think dan might die if you don’t. i’m sorry. please hurry up.’_

Phil reads it over once, then twice.

 _‘Dan’s going to die. Oh my god, Dan might die!’_ Phil runs his hands through his hair, trying to make sense of the whole situation, and more importantly, the message he just received.

“What are they trying to tell me…,” Phil mutters to himself, pacing the floor, his eyes reading the text again.

 _‘020 - 3761 - 6097…,’_ he thinks, before his eyes widen. 

The number wasn’t blocked.

“Holy crap!” Phil exclaims, nearly dropping his phone.

“Holy crap what?”

Phil turns around and sees PJ, wearing the clothes from last night. His hair was messy, bits of it flying all over the place, and he is walking towards him with a limp. A purple bruise could be seen on his neck, which made Phil grimace and blush at the same time.

“What is it?” PJ repeats. “Is something wrong?”

Phil finds himself lost for words. PJ smirks, picking up a beer bottle off the ground and when he stands back up, he finds himself very close to Phil. 

“I-I…,” Phil stutters.

“Yes?” PJ asks, his dimple showing through a lopsided smile.  

Phil takes a deep breath and shows him the phone. 

“Look, there’s no time to explain, I just need you to track this number as fast as you possibly can. Okay?” Phil says hastily, shoving the phone in PJ’s chest. PJ looks at him, confused, but nods.

“Alright then…,” PJ says slowly, sitting down on the couch and typing quickly on his laptop. Phil smiles, muttering “thank you!” under his breath, and went to his room to change.

When he comes back, PJ slides his laptop to face Phil, who is now dressed in black pants, a white shirt, and a black blazer. He is also holding a pistol, which he securely places in its case 

“Well, since the number isn’t blocked, I was able to finish the task rather quickly than the last few tests we’ve run, which is certainly convenient. ”

“Alright then, where’s the phone that the number belongs to?” Phil asks, grabbing his phone and putting it in his pocket. PJ types a few things, his hands flying across the keyboard. He looks up at Phil.

“Okay, the phone that this number traces back to is an old abandoned house on the outskirts of London. It is about a thirty-minute drive there.”

“Alright, then get changed, Peej,” Phil says. PJ frowns, looking down at his clothes, then looking at Phil.

“I don’t have clothes here,” PJ says. “Plus, my MI5 uniform is in dry cleaning.”

“Whatever, just wear that then.”

“But I’m gonna look like the lamest spy ever!” PJ whines.

Phil rolls his eyes, but not wanting to argue with him, he takes off his blazer and tosses it to PJ.

“You know what? Wear this. You may have only a graphic t-shirt and jeans on, but at least you have a blazer. Is that less lame?”

“Yeah, thanks.”  PJ smiles, despite Phil’s sarcasm. 

“We’re taking your car!” Phil says as a response, not taking ‘no’ for an answer.

Phil grabs the keys to PJ’s car off the coffee table. He then runs into Dan’s room and grabs Dan’s pistol, which is buried under his clothes in his drawer. Not bothered to close it, he goes back to PJ, who’s at the front door.

“Just in case,” Phil murmurs quietly, giving it to PJ. He nods, putting it in his backpack.

“Thanks.”

“Do you have any other kind of weapons on you?” Phil asks. PJ smiles a bit, bending over and pulling down his coloured sock.

“I always have a knife in my sock,” he says, “just in case.”

Phil looks at PJ, a bit confused, but just shakes his head, tossing him the house keys and making his way out of his messy flat.

“Lock the door on your way out,” Phil says, already running down the stairs.

PJ frowns at the sudden urgency, locking the door and jogging down the stairs behind Phil. 

“Do you plan on telling me _any_ information you found at 11:30 in the _fucking_ morning? For example — just in case you need one —  _that text?!_ ”

Phil sighs, not answering. They both run down the stairs until they reach the apartment building’s front door, and head towards the apartment parking lot. Phil unlocks PJ’s car and gets in the driver’s seat. PJ takes passenger seat, despite it being his car, and the two slam the door closed in unison. 

“Fuck!” PJ curses when they get in. 

“What? What happened? Did you forget anything?” Phil says, looking at PJ in concern. PJ just sighs, climbing out of the car, and grabbing a yellow piece of paper that was stuck in the car wipers. He gets back in the car with an annoyed expression.

“I got a ticket!” he groans.

Phil rolls his eyes. “I’m going to drive. You are going to set up the damn GPS and shut up forever.”

PJ chuckles at Phil’s sarcasm, and Phil begins revving up the engine. Seconds later, he backs out of the parking lot and speeds onto the road.

\--*-- 

Halfway through their journey, and Phil is already nervously drumming his fingers on his lap. He stops at a red light, and PJ takes the opportunity to break the awkward silence.

“Look, Phil, we need to address the elephant in the room,” PJ says, “or at least, the elephant in the _car_.”

“There’s nothing we need to talk about, PJ,” Phil mutters, watching the light turn green and following the GPS-lady’s directions. 

“Yes there is, Phil; what happened last night is something we obviously need to address.”

“Look, Peej, I can barely remember what happened last night, and I think you should do the same thing.”

PJ crosses his arms. “Phil —” 

“There’s nothing to talk about, PJ,” Phil growls, making a left turn. “We were both drunk, and speaking for myself, I was feeling lonely.” 

“You make it sound like you sleep with _all_ your best friends,” 

Phil sneaks a quick glance at PJ with annoyance. PJ leans his head against the headrest of his chair. 

“This is something we definitely need to talk about,” PJ repeats. “Phil, we had _sex_ together. Are you telling me that this isn’t a big deal?” 

“Of course it isn’t a big deal, PJ. It’s just sex.” Phil whispers the last part quietly. 

PJ glares at Phil; he’s crossed the line. 

“What the hell, Phil?!” he yells loudly. 

Phil looks at PJ, a bit surprised at his outburst. 

“PJ, what is your problem?” Phil retorts, his eyes glued on the road. “I know last night was a mistake, but it didn’t mean anything to me.”

The last words hurt. PJ looks down. 

“It meant something to me, Phil,” he says quietly. “I like you a lot, Phil. To say it didn’t mean anything to you makes me feel even worse for doing something like that.” 

Phil stops at another intersection.

“I’m sorry, PJ,” Phil murmurs. “I didn’t mean that.” 

PJ sighs, running a hand through his hair. “You did mean that, Phil. You know you meant that. And that is perfectly fine with me.”

“What are you on about?”

“Look, Phil,” — PJ turns around in his seat to face him. — “I said I like you. And I do. I wasn’t lying about that. But I like you so much that I am willing to let you go.”

“PJ, I don't think—”

“It doesn’t matter what you think, Phil.” PJ cuts him off. “My feelings towards you are feelings I’ve never felt for someone before. Words can’t _describe_ how I feel about you. 

Phil remains silent as PJ looks down at the ground.

“But you love someone else. By ‘someone else’ I mean Dan, of course; you don’t try to deny it.”

Phil says nothing to deny it. PJ sighs.

“I love you so much; it would kill me if I was the wall separating you from happiness and your true love. You and Dan are made for each other. If last night meant nothing to you, I could live with that. If you are going to try and pity me by saying something else, you’d be lying to yourself.”

The light turns green. Phil goes on, and a few seconds later, he reaches their destination. Phil stops at the front of the house, and they sit there for a while.

“Go get him, Phil,” PJ murmurs. “Do it for _you._ ”

Phil sighs. “You need to come with me, PJ. I need you.”

“This is your fight; not mine. I’ll wait for you here.”

“PJ, I know you mean well, but if you aren’t going to come with me, call for backup or something, because things aren’t going to go down well in there if what I am thinking is right.”

PJ sighs, pulling out his phone and dialling Dan’s dad. When he answers, they chat for five minutes, and then PJ hangs up. Phil listens quietly, letting what PJ said sink in.

“Alright,” PJ’s voice snaps Phil out of his daze. “We’ll see you there. 

He hangs up and faces Phil. 

“Dan’s dad is bring backup. They’ll get here as soon as they can.”

“PJ, please don’t let me do this alone. I don’t think I could face them alone, let alone see Dan by myself. If you ever loved me, please come with me.”

PJ stares ahead, and sighs, opening the door of his car.

“Let’s go, partner,” PJ says quietly. 

Phil smiles, and he exits the car with PJ, praying that nothing will go horribly wrong in there. 

They face the old house. It’s grey, and the windows were broken. Phil could tell there is one level, but he isn’t sure if there was a basement or not. The door was wooden, like most of the structure. 

PJ grabs Phil’s hand and squeezes it. He faces Phil with a small smile. 

“Whatever goes down in there, just know that I do love you, Phil. You’re an amazing person who deserves everything.”

Phil just smiles back. PJ’s smile falls, but doesn’t say anything else as the two walk towards the door, both pulling out their guns.

Before they go in, Phil grabs PJ’s shoulder and turns him around. PJ is about to speak when Phil leans in and kisses him.

PJ is shocked, his mind screaming at him to hold him and never let go. He sighs and he pulls back.

“Don’t even humour me, Phil,” PJ murmurs, his smile from before now gone. His words graze Phil’s lips, and he reels back, looking down, embarrassed 

“I’m—”

“Don’t.”

Phil just nods, and the two go in together, pistols in hand and minds heavy with thought. 

 _‘We’re coming, Dan,’_ Phil thinks with a confident smile. _‘We’re coming.’_

\--*--

The house is dark, and it seemed to be empty; though Phil could see a staircase leading to, assumably, a lower level, where he could only assume is the place Dan is being kept, or where the two murderers were.

He was really hoping it was Dan. 

Lowering his gun, he looks at PJ, and then at the staircase. PJ doesn’t seem to be paying attention; instead, he is snapping pictures of the house with his phone.

“What are you doing?” Phil asks, and PJ looks up. 

“Evidence and stuff,” PJ says vaguely, “you know, for the documenting the crime and stuff when we totally dominate these bad guys.” 

Phil looks unconvinced. 

“You’re doing it because you’d want to remodel this place, aren’t you,” Phil deadpans. PJ looks at Phil with wide eyes, as if Phil was already supposed to know the answer.

“Uh, Phil, did you _see_ the amount of space in this house? Man, I could totally live in this place if it had a chandelier here,” –– He waves his hands above him at the peeling ceiling –– “and you could put a massive TV here, with some pictures on the wall opposite! It’s like a blank canvas!”

“Tell me when you retire to become the third member of the _Property Brothers,_ ” Phil says with a roll of his eyes. PJ just sticks out his tongue at him.

Suddenly, the quiet house is filled with the echo of someone whispering.

“Who is it?” the two hear as they near the staircase. The voice got a bit louder the closer they got to it. “Is somebody there?”

By instinct, PJ raises his gun and points to the staircase leading to what Phil could only assume is a basement, Phil, however, knew that voice anywhere.

“PJ, you stay up here and keep an eye out for anything.” Phil loads his gun, and PJ gulps. “I’m going to check what’s happening downstairs.” 

PJ, who no longer has the energy to argue, nods, and faces the door. Phil wants to say something else to him, but he closes his mouth, and goes downstairs.

As he goes down the creaky stairs, he makes sure to hold his gun out, prepared for anything. His finger was rested on the trigger, but when he got to the bottom, he lowered the gun.

He seemed to have entered a small room, in which the only source of light was a small lamp hanging from the ceiling. Phil looks around, but the only thing that was there was a table, and a door, that possibly led to another room.

Phil walks towards the table, putting the gun back in its case, still holding onto the handle. He looks at the items that were resting on the surface.

There were three lighters — all with the same design of silver flowers blossoming from the bottom left — thick ropes, a selection of knives, a gun, and burnt clothes 

Phil picks up the clothes and recognizes it as Dan’s shirt from the party.

 _‘Dan…,’_ Phil thinks sullenly.

“Is somebody there?” a muffled voice behind the door asks again. Instinctively, he pulls out his gun, keeping it closely aimed in front of him as he looks behind him just in case; no one.

_‘Alright, go in, Phil. It can’t be that bad.’_

Phil takes a deep breath and opens the door slowly, the creaking of the wooden door making him feel slightly uneasy.

There is barely any light in the room, so Phil pulls out his phone and turns on the flashlight. 

Phil sees somebody in the corner, hidden by shadows. They’re huddled in the corner of the room, shaking visibly. Phil shines the light at the person and gasps.

Dan.

_‘Dan.’_

“Dan?” Phil finally manages to say.

Dan is covering his eyes from the light. Phil almost wants to turn the light away from him to stop looking at him; he’s bloody and bruised, multiple burn marks across his face, his arms, and on his torso, which were revealed by the rips in the white t-shirt he was wearing. The shirt also had spots of red, and the jeans he wore were ripped as well, revealing healing scabs, and trails of dried blood. Dan had bags under his eyes, which were red and puffy from crying. His hair was all over the place, and when he looks at Dan’s face again, he realizes that he was crying.

Phil stuffs his gun in its case again, and runs towards his partner, tears beading in his eyes. Dan looks at Phil with glassy eyes. 

“P-Phil?” he whispers.

Phil nods. “Y-Yeah, Dan. It’s me. I’m here now; you don’t have to cry.”

Phil reaches over to hug him, but Dan flinches, sobbing loudly and cowering into the corner of the room. Phil reels back as if he was burnt as well. 

“Dan…,” Phil murmurs. 

Dan looks at the sadness in Phil’s eyes and then he covers his mouth. He grabs Phil’s shirt and buries his face in his chest.

“I-I’m sorry, Phil,” he stammers, “I-I’m sorry. I am so, _so_ sorry.”

Phil strokes Dan’s messy hair, his tears running down his cheeks as he kneeled on the ground with his phone beside him, illuminating the two in the darkness. They both cry, before Dan lifts his face from Phil’s chest and pulls him to his lips, kissing him. 

Phil’s eyes are wide with shock, but then he moves into the kiss, cupping Dan’s cheek as he kisses back with passion. The two pull apart slightly, taking deep breaths, noses touching. Phil’s mind is racing with thoughts. 

 _“It would kill me if I was the wall separating you from happiness and your true love,”_ PJ’s voice echoes in his mind. _“You and Dan are made for each other.”_

“Thank you for coming, Phil,” Dan whispers, his words grazing Phil’s lips. Phil looks at Dan’s lips again, ignoring the cuts and the dried blood, and in that moment, he realizes that PJ was right; he wants to kiss those lips again, and hold him so tightly that he would never escape him again.

“I lo—”

A loud bang was heard from upstairs, cutting Phil off. Dan flinches, nearly screaming as he covers his head. Phil looks at Dan apologetically, and is about to comfort him, before he heard PJ’s voice calling for him.

“Look, Dan, I need to go back upstairs.”

Dan sniffles, feeling pathetic, but scared at the same time.

“Don’t leave me again, Phil, please. Don’t leave me down here with them! They’re going to h-hurt me...please don’t leave me again,” Dan anxiously says, and Phil closes his eyes, squeezing Dan’s bloody hand softly.

“I’m not leaving without you, Dan,” Phil says slowly. “I’m never going to leave you alone ever again.”

Dan thinks about it and nods shyly. 

“Okay,” he says quietly.

Phil smiles, and before he stands up, Dan looks at Phil and squeezes his hand as well, catching Phil’s attention.

“Please be careful,” Dan says, his voice barely a whisper.

“I will,” Phil promises back, and he grabs his gun and runs out the door, dashing up the stairs to see where PJ is. 

PJ was standing there, his back covering two people that stood in the front door. Phil rushes to PJ’s side, and sees that he is aiming his gun at two people he definitely recognized.

“Oh my god,” Phil says, lowering his gun. “I-It’s _you._ ”

“Yes, _Philly_ ,” Chris Kendall says to the two agents, as he cross his arms beside Cat Valdes. “It _is_ me.” 

\--*-- 

There were moments in Phil’s life in which time moved slower than ever. The times where he is waiting for the bus, or times he was waiting for his cue to jump the bad guys. And anyone who knew him — including Dan, who had no choice but to tolerate it — knew that Phil was _not_ a patient guy. 

But for the first time in his whole life,  he wants time to stop in general. He wants everyone and everything around him to freeze for a while — or _forever._

He _especially_ wants the man in front of him to freeze. Freeze until Phil could drive millions of bullets into Chris’ chest.

Unfortunately, Phil knows time will never stop, so he wastes no time lunging towards Chris. PJ, however, pulls him back.

“Phil, stop it!” PJ yells, but it doesn’t make a difference. 

Chris laughs. “Wanna hit me? Why are you more surprised that _I’m_ apart of this? Cat’s here too, you know?”

Cat looks down, shaking her head. Phil tries to get out of PJ’s grasp, lashing out at Chris. 

“I can’t _believe_ you, Chris!” he yells. “You’re my best friend! You’re apart of the _MI5!_ You have so much, yet you waste time on a life like this?! _I fucking hate you!”_

Phil’s tears are no longer sad; they’re _angry._ Furious, even.

Chris walks towards Phil and kisses his cheek. Phil stares straight ahead at Cat, who isn’t making any eye contact.

“Aw, Phil; how flattering.” Chris smiles. “I don’t think I could _ever_ hate you, Phil, but I can definitely hate you _for what you did._ ” 

“How could you do that to me, Chris?!” Phil says when Chris backs up to stand by Cat’s side. “How could you murder innocent people? How could you hurt _Dan?!_ I saw him, Chris! I saw what you two did to him! Cat, I don’t even know why the _hell_ you’re apart of this, but _you,_ Chris? 

“Now, Phil, don’t say that; every person that I have ever killed,” — His eyes travel to the staircase — “or _almost_ killed are not as innocent as you think. 

“What do you mean?” Phil says, escaping PJ’s grasp, but backing up to stand beside him.

“Well, I might as well start from the beginning, should I?” Chris laughs, and Phil winces; his laugh used to make him smile, but now it is making him nauseous. “Just like every crazy villain.” 

PJ shoots him a cold stare, his gun still aimed at Chris’ chest.

“As you probably guessed, I was the one behind this mastermind plan. Yes, it took a long time, almost _months_ before I finished planning _,_ but it started with the first victim. 

“Tasha Valdes,” Phil whispers, looking at Cat, who was crying. “You killed Cat’s sister. Her eyes were ripped out.”

Chris chuckles, looking at Cat. She avoids eye contact, staring at the ground.

“I did. She was my first victim. You see, from the very beginning, I knew I had to have someone to help me. I was then called up by the agency to help train a girl named Cat Valdes. I was very happy, since from the first training session, I knew she would be perfect. 

Phil looks at Chris in disgust, then at Cat. He tries his hardest to be mad at her, but for some reason, he feels that there is more behind Cat’s intentions. 

“Before her second training session, I called Cat in the middle of the night. I told her that her sister was passed out in this dark alley beside a club. Cat came almost instantly, and that’s when I killed Tasha.” 

Cat grimaces at the memory.

“She was the first person to spread my message of blindness; hence the eyes being ripped off. From the very beginning, I had a clear message I wanted to send; specifically to _you_ , Phil, who was practically blind to everything around you. You were oblivious to me, so I wanted to send you that message. Shame that you never really understood it.” 

PJ looks at Phil’s pale face. 

“Cat was furious, and she was about to call the police,” Chris explains, “but I... _convinced_ her to change her mind.”

“You threatened to kill my fiancé,” Cat growls; her first contribution to the conversation was quiet and meek.

Chris shrugs. “You mean Steven? Did you really want to become Mrs. Hoffman when he was sleeping with someone else?”

Cat clenches her fist, and Phil finally pieced it together.

“You are horrible,” PJ growls, “dragging someone innocent into your crazy games. 

“But it wasn’t all me, right Cat?” Chris says, looking at Cat. “Care to explain?”

Cat sighs. “Chris threatened to kill my fiancé and everyone at my wedding if I didn’t join him. I told him I would think about it, since I needed more time to approach the situation. Unfortunately, I felt like I needed my fiancé that night, so I went to his house, getting into his apartment with the spare key. I went to his room and caught him having sex with another woman.”

Phil stays silent, not knowing whether to spare some pity or not. She continues.

“I was very angry. I stormed out of the apartment after throwing my ring at him, and I walked outside. Chris was there, and I...I agreed to help him. 

Chris nods, as if he were proud.

“Some people just crack under the pressure,” he says with a sly grin. 

Phil looks as if he wanted to throw up. Cat shakes her head.

“He told me the plan and made me swear I’d never betray it.” Phil looks at Cat, who seems guilty about what’s she saying.

“The next day, I fucked Steven against his will and killed him. It was...an unforgettable feeling, to say the least. Chris contributed by being ‘artistic as always’ and ripped out his legs and arms.”

“That was part two of my message, Phil.” Chris says, walking up to Phil and cupping his chin, lifting it up so Phil’s eyes met his. “It meant _‘you can’t do anything.’_ Clever, right?”

Phil stiffens at Chris’ cold touch. PJ lowers his gun and pushes Chris off Phil, watching as he stumbles back 

“Don’t get so overprotective, Peej,” Chris says slyly. “It’s not like he’s your _boyfriend_ or anything.”

PJ growls, resisting every urge that told him to shoot Chris in the head.

Chris doesn’t stop there though, skipping around PJ.

“You were a lovestruck idiot, you know that, Liguori? You were always so desperate for someone to cling on to. To think you even slept with Phil…”

“How did you know about that?” PJ growls before Phil could stop him.

Chris grins. “I do now.”

PJ’s nails dig into the palm of his hands.

“Stay out of this, Chris. You don’t know what you are about to get into when I drive bullets through your body.”

“Stay out of Phil’s pants and we’ll call it a deal,” Chris retorts, leaning closer to PJ’s ear. “After all, Phil is certainly the _aftermath_ of your love-sick daze _._ ”

PJ’s eyes widen, and Phil shoots a glare at PJ. Chris smiles, circling around PJ, singing.

“From this moment...from this moment!” Chris sings with a wide grin. PJ narrows his eyes, fighting back tears.  “You will never be alone..." 

“Chris,” Phil warns him slowly, which doesn’t stop him.

“Bound together, now and forever! _”_ Chris looks at PJ, and then says in between lyrics, “Come on, Liguori, join in!”

PJ is shaking, and Phil wants to comfort him.

“The loneliness has gone _…,_ ” Chris sings, and PJ has had enough.

“ _Shut up!”_ he screams.

Chris stops, and everything around him is silent. Phil looks at PJ, whose face was covered with tears. Chris smiles.

“Struck a chord, did I?” he teases.

“You played that song on Valentine’s Day... for _me?_ ” Phil whispers. PJ says nothing.

“Feel special, Mr. Lester!” Chris singsongs. “You were quite the hoot with the people closest to you, weren’t ya? Brings ‘Fantastic Foursome’ to a whole different level, huh?”

“There’s one thing I don’t understand,” Phil murmurs. “Your victims were all...connected somehow. Why did you kill Victoria?" 

Chris grins, looking at Cat, who sighs.

“Shortly after, while the investigation of Steven was happening, I found out that Steven had slept with a girl named Victoria Tailors." 

“Oh my god,” Phil mutters. 

“As soon as I found out, I dragged her to a courtyard, raped her, then killed her by stabbing her to death and cutting her heart out. Needless to say, Chris was very pleased.”

“Hey, you know what they say,” Chris says with a toothy smile, “ _If I can’t have your heart, no one can!”_

Phil and PJ exchanged disgusted looks.

“Did you _want_ to do this, Cat?” Phil whispers. 

Cat looks down. 

“To be honest, I was completely content with what I was doing. Chris had stopped contacting for over a month. But when Chris came back with a plan to kidnap and kill Dan, he had promised me it was the last one.”

Cat sighs. “I agreed, but after I raped Dan."

“You _raped_ him?!” Phil screeches. Cat looks at him apologetically, and Phil storms up to her. 

“You didn’t just rape him. You _broke_ him.” Phil’s voice was above a roar. “You are dead to me, Cat! I thought you were the innocent one here, but you are just as evil as him!”

“I felt terrible, Phil!” Cat sobs loudly. “After what happened with him, I felt guilty. I snapped out of this blur of anger, but I didn’t know what I was doing until it was too late and I was too far into this mess to just quit. I had to finish the job, but not without helping you. 

“What the hell are you talking about, Cat?” Chris says. Cat steps back to the edge of the door. Phil, however, knew what was she did. Pieces of the puzzle snapped together.

“You sent the messages,” Phil says slowly. “You were the one who texted me with an unblocked number so we could find you here.”

“You did _what?_ ” Chris says, looking at Cat in shock.

Cat’s crying a waterfall. She glares at Chris.

“I didn’t want to be the bad guy anymore, Chris!” she yells. “I didn’t want to live with the guilt of killing people!” 

Chris growls furiously, pulling out a small pistol that belonged to the MI5.

 _“You little bitch,”_ he sneers, walking towards Cat, stopping when he was at least three feet away from her. “Actually? Scratch that; you’re a _rapist.”_

Cat sobs loudly. Phil and PJ just stand there, watching the scene unfold.

“No one in their right _mind,” —_  He points the gun towards her head —  _“_ will ever want to forgive you.”

“Chris, drop the gun; we can do this the easy way or the hard way,” Phil says. “I honestly don’t want to hurt you, no matter what you did. Serve your punishment instead of serving death.”

“You’ll always be the bad guy, Cat!” Chris yells, ignoring Phil. “So I’m doing you a favour and releasing you to where you belong; _hell.”_  

Without warning, Chris shoots Cat in the head. Phil screams, stumbling back, and PJ looks at the crime in horror. Chris laughs as Cat falls to the ground.

Phil covers his mouth in shock, running past Chris and kneeling beside Cat’s body. Her eyes were glassy and open, her mouth parted slightly, and fresh tears down her white face. He sees a trickle of blood underneath her hair where the bullet shot her. He places two fingers on her neck and confirms his suspicions; she was dead as soon as the bullet hit her skull.

“Oh, Philly,” Chris says, loading his gun once more, “don’t you remember? We bad guys _always_ want it the bad way.”

He shoots at PJ, who quickly rolls out of the way, taking cover behind the couch. Phil stands up and tackles him from behind, pushing him onto the floor. Chris laughs, and kicks Phil off him, his back facing the staircase 

PJ helps Phil up to his feet. Phil and PJ face Chris from the front door.

“You two think you’re real heroes, don’t you?” Chris chuckles, pointing his gun at them. “The real trouble I’ll have is deciding who I’m going to shoot first—"

“Not on my watch, asshole!" 

Chris doesn’t even have time to turn around as Dan jumps from the top of the staircase and onto Chris’ back, covering his eyes.

Phil smiles breathlessly.

“He must’ve snuck up here,” PJ chuckles. “That brave bastard.”

Chris struggles to gain balance, dropping his gun on the ground. He growls, throwing Dan off and onto the ground. Dan moans, hitting his head. Chris looks down at Dan.

“You think you’re so badass, Dan,” he says, “but deep inside, you are just a pathetic little _nobody._ ”

“You crossed the line, Chris!” Phil yells, loading his gun and shooting at Chris. He watches as Chris moves out of the way. Chris then shoots at Phil, who rolls to hide behind a desk. He flips it over and uses it as a shield. 

“Give it up, Phil!” Chris screams, shooting at the desk. The bullets bang against it, but weren’t going through. Chris runs out out of bullets, and replaces the empty pack of bullets with a new one. “If you let me kill Dan, then I’ll turn myself in! You’re the one making this difficult, Phil! He isn’t that important! _One life for the life of three?_ ”

PJ sneaks up behind Chris and stabs him in the right leg with the knife hidden in his sock, twisting it in his flesh. Chris roars in pain, nearly doubling over in pain.

Chris growls, his leg bleeding as he pulls the knife out, throwing it aside. Chris swings a punch to PJ’s head, and he ducks down, Chris’ fist going over his head. He shin-kicks Chris off his feet, knocking him off his feet. 

“Just like _Mortal Kombat!_ ” PJ says proudly.

Phil smiles a bit, and then goes to help Dan up.

“You okay?” he whispers. Dan nods. 

“A bit sore everywhere, but I’m fine. Thank you, Phil.” Dan replies, grabbing Phil’s hand and bringing himself up to his feet. 

From afar, PJ looks at Dan and Phil with a heavy sigh, thinking about what Chris said to him earlier. 

He looks past them to see Chris limping out as fast as he could, pistol in hand, trying to make an escape. 

“Guys, he’s getting away!” he yells. Dan and Phil snap out of their daze to see Chris already out the door. Dan swings his arm around Phil’s shoulder as he adjusts to the sunlight pouring in. Phil helps Dan walk, and PJ jogs alongside them. 

They follow Chris out as Phil shouts at Chris. 

“You lose, Chris! You’re done—"

Phil is cut off with a small nudge from Dan. He frowns, looking up and seeing what Dan and PJ were staring at.

Dan’s dad stood in the middle of the sidewalk leading up to the house, his gun pointed at Chris, who’s stood in the middle of the pathway. Multiple MI5 agents surround him in a semicircle, their guns faced at Chris. Phil could see Louise, who was a little more than seven feet away from Chris, her eyes fixed on the former MI5 agent. 

“Drop your weapon, Chris Kendall,” Dan’s dad orders. “You’re under arrest.”

Chris looks at them in disbelief, then screams, turning around to aim his gun towards PJ’s heart.

Phil’s eyes widen, and the next few events played out slowly; he sees PJ’s alarmed expression, along with Dan’s tears. He sees Louise, who runs towards Chris and tackles him, pinning him onto the ground.

He hears a big bang. 

“You’ll never find love!” Phil sees Chris shriek when he snaps out of it. Chris was tossing and turning in the grasp of Louise and Dan’s dad’s arms. “I couldn’t finish the message with you, Dan, so I’ll have to send it to you another way! Do understand now, Phil?! _Did you get the message?!_ ” 

Phil stares at Chris as he is being led into a police car.

 _‘It’s over,’_ Phil thinks. _‘We’re done.’_

“P-Phil…,” Dan stutters.

He looks over his shoulder and gasps.

PJ is standing there, wide-eyed, covering his heart. His eyes are glassy and his breathing was shallow. His mouth was parted open, and he looks at Phil in terror.

“PJ?” Phil stammers.

PJ looks like he is about to speak, but he lets actions speak louder than words; he lifts his hand from his chest and Phil nearly screams.

Blood. It covered Phil’s blazer and PJ’s graphic t-shirt. It was sticking to PJ’s hand, and was coming from his heart.

“PJ!” Phil exclaims, catching PJ as he collapses. 

Dan kneels beside PJ, his hand covering his mouth in shock. PJ’s eyes were fluttering, and Phil nervously wipes tears from his eyes.

“I-I’m sorry…Phil…,” PJ breathes out. “I’m sorry I played Aftermath for you on Valentine’s Day two years ago. It's not even a romantic song, what was I thinking––”

“That was for _you_?” Dan stutters, sneaking a glance at a guilty-looking Phil.

PJ continues weakly, “A-And whatever you say, last night was a mistake. And it was a big deal. I don’t want to die thinking it was my fault.”

Dan looks at Phil, and Phil just sighs, rubbing PJ’s forehead. 

“It’s not your fault, Peej, it was mine. And you’re not going to die; we’re going to get you some help right now. Can someone grab a paramedic? Anybody?" 

Phil’s yells were died down by PJ squeezing Phil’s hand with a faint smile.

“Don’t even humour me, Phil,” PJ says quietly, before closing his eyes and opening them again, his breathing slowing down.

“Dan, you deserve Phil. You are so damn lucky,” PJ whispers hoarsely. 

Dan says nothing. Phil’s crying as paramedics surround them. PJ shakes his head.

“I love you,” PJ murmurs.

Before the paramedics could get him on a stretcher, PJ’s eyes close, and his chest stops rising. Phil’s eyes widen and he shakes his shoulder.

“PJ?!” Phil screams. “No, no, no, no, no! PJ, wake up, dammit!”

The paramedics brush Phil off, and Dan pulls him back. They cover PJ’s body with a black sheet, and that’s when Phil knew it.

He was dead.

Dan pulls Phil back, and the two watch as people take PJ away, along with Cat from inside the house. Dan goes to the side with Phil and grabs Phil’s hands. His screams fade away with his tears. 

“I’m sorry, Phil,” he says softly, “this is all my fault. If I was more careful, PJ would still be alive, and you wouldn’t be hurting so damn much––”

“It wasn’t your fault, Dan,” Phil says quietly.

Dan pauses, before taking a deep breath. 

“What happened last night with you and PJ?” Dan asks. “What was he talking about that you said it ‘wasn’t a big deal’?”

Phil rubs the back of his neck and closes his eyes.

“I...slept with PJ,” he admits. Dan’s eyes widen. 

“You _what?!”_

“I was drunk, Dan! I wasn’t thinking straight, and I was panicking about you and being alone for the rest of my life. One thing led to another and––”

“You slept with your best friend,” Dan finishes for him, tears in his eyes" 

“Dan, let’s not make a big deal out of this—”

“This a big deal, Phil!” Dan screams. “You know how I feel about you, and you know how torn up I was when I told you! Yet when you find me, _you fucking kissed me?!”_

Phil stays silent. Dan runs a hand through his hair.

“You can’t play with my emotions right now, Phil,” Dan grumbles, “I just got out of hell, and what were you doing? Fucking your best friend?!”

“Look, we were both drunk, Dan!”

“That isn’t the point, Phil!” Dan snaps. “The point is you are leading me on! What the hell do you want me to feel, Phil? And I can’t believe you told PJ that it wasn’t a big deal! Why would you even say that to him?!" 

“Dan, what happened between me and PJ _stays_ between us!”

Dan sniffs back tears, trying to keep his emotions in check.

“I can’t believe you, Phil,” Dan whispers. “Out of all people, you should understand that when I told you I loved you it was hard. You can’t just betray me like that. You know what I went through growing up!”

“Dan, I’m sorry. It was a mistake—”

“Damn right it was,” Dan sneers, walking towards the ambulance, and storming past his dad and Louise, who were just as concerned about him.

“Dan, wait!” Phil groans, running after him and grabbing his shoulder 

Before his hand could make contact, Dan flinches, pulling away.

“Don’t touch me!” he screams. 

Suddenly, the loud atmosphere filled with sirens and voices seemed quiet. Phil looks at Dan, a mixture of hurt and pain in his eyes, and Dan just stares at Phil with teary eyes. 

Shaking his head, Dan gets in the ambulance, and his dad goes with him. He’s shaking and crying, which was the last thing Phil saw before the ambulance doors closed, and the vehicle took off. 

Louise pats Phil’s shoulder. Phil shakes his head sadly.

“Everything’s different now, Lou,” he whimpers. “Everything.”  

\--*-- 

**_2009_ **

_The first time Phil fell in love with Dan was the first time they successfully finished a mission together, and it was the first time Dan stepped into a flat he’d soon call home._

_The two were already conversing as if they should’ve be friends ages ago, exchanging stories of their past and their hobbies. Eventually, it was late, and Phil wanted to sleep. Unfortunately, his brain was yelling at him to stay up, and he spent time explaining how his body was always like that — making him stay up even if he was tired. He joked that his body was a bit of a failure at times._  

_He meant it as a funny remark; he didn’t expect it to cause a conversation he didn’t know would happen with his new partner._

_“Your body? A failure?” Dan said in some sort of shock. “Your body isn’t a failure. You wouldn’t know how much I’d kill for your looks.”_

_Phil blushed. “You’re pretty good looking yourself, you know?”_

_Dan shrugged, spinning the drink in his cup. “No, not really. I mean, thank you, but...that’s not true.”_

_“Of course it is,” Phil said, frowning. “Why would you think otherwise?”_  

 _Dan didn’t make eye contact. “I was never told that I looked decent, let alone nice. When my parents broke up, my mom turned to alcohol and always reminded me I wouldn’t be good enough. I guess years of telling someone that allows them to see it the same way.”_  

_“That is so not true,” Phil said sadly. “And I’m sorry about your mom; I can’t believe you told me that.”_

_“Ditto,” Dan said with a quiet chuckle. “Now I kind of wish I didn’t tell you, as I probably made this whole night sad and stuff.”_

_“Sometimes it’s healthy to be sad,” Phil reminded him. “I mean, it’s good to let some of that out. I’m glad you told me.”_

_Dan looks at him silently. Phil pulled Dan into a tight embrace, taking him by surprise._  

 _“You are stunning, Dan,” Phil whispered in Dan’s shoulder. “Don’t let anyone make you think otherwise.”_  

_Dan smiled, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and gratitude towards Phil as he pulled back._

_“Thank you, Phil,” Dan said. “That means a lot to me.”_  

 _“No problem,” Phil said, watching as Dan’s eyes lit up like Christmas lights._  

_“So do you want me to play for you or what?” Dan asked, and Phil wordlessly nodded, letting a grin give Dan an answer._

_..._

_And Dan played. He played the piano until his fingers ached. Phil felt as if he was going to pass out from exhaustion, but he just kept his eyes open, not wanting to drown out the music with sleep._

_Dan’s hands create a haunting version of a classical song, and Phil could study every feature of Dan’s face as he played; his dimple, his caramel eyes, his soft hair, everything. He could see the corner of Dan’s mouth move into a small smile when he played, or how his fingers curved into every push of a key. He sounded like a movie cliche, but it was true; it was as if time moved slower with him._  

_Minutes turned into hours, and Dan finished Moonlight Sonata for the third time when he saw Phil yawn. He smiled, standing up and grabbing his backpack from the side of Phil’s door._

_“I should probably leave; it’s almost midnight, and my dad is probably worried about where I am by now,” he said._

_Phil looked over at him tiredly._

_“Are you sure you don’t want to stay overnight?”_

_Dan looked as if he considered it, before shaking his head politely._

_“No thanks, Phil. I think I’ll head home. Besides, I can’t stay over at a stranger’s place.”_

_Phil laughed at Dan’s sarcasm._

_“Looks like we’ll have to change that then.”_

_Dan smiled. “Looks like it.”_

_He hung his bag over his shoulder and made his way out, shouting behind his back,“G’night, Phil!”_

_When Phil heard the door close, he sat on his bed with a smile and a fluttery feeling in his chest._

_He may deny his feelings for Dan everyday, but everyone, including himself, knew the truth; Phil fell in love with Dan the day he laid eyes on him, and eventually, Phil just accepted it._

_\--*--_  

Phil walks into their flat, whistling a quiet tune as he threw his keys on the nearby table beside the door. He wore a smile, but it disappeared as soon as he walked into the lounge. 

Dan is sitting on the couch, angry Kanye West music blaring from his headphones so loudly that Phil could hear it from the front door. He is typing away, not fazed when he snuck a glance at Phil.

“Is that the new case you are working on? I heard you’re doing it on your own,” Phil asks rather loudly, which was enough for Dan. He pulls off his headphones seamlessly, but didn't make eye contact. He nods wordlessly. Phil’s brain tells him to shut up, but he continues to attempt a conversation with Dan.

“You had therapy today.” The words make Dan look at him. “How was it?”

“Fine,” Dan mutters. Phil sighs, making his way to the kitchen.

“Is it the last one?” 

Dan shrugs. “Dunno.”

Phil nods, pulling out a pan and then opening the fridge.

“Did you eat dinner?”

No answer. Phil sighs, facing the boy, who was staring at the screen, clearly ignoring him.

“Dan,” he calls out again. Dan looks up, irritated. 

“No.” 

“What do you want? Pizza? I think we still have some leftover Mexican food from a few nights ago…,” Phil says. 

Dan shakes his head. Phil takes a shaky breath.

“Dan, you have to eat,” Phil says, looking at Dan’s body; none of them wanted to say it, but Dan had lost so much weight, and Phil was beginning to get concerned. 

Dan looks at Phil with steely eyes. 

“Since when did you care?” Dan growls. “Leave me alone.” 

With that, Dan slips on his headphones and continues to type, Phil looks sadly at him.

It’s been a month.

They’ve has been this way for four weeks, all their conversations the same; Phil starts off awkwardly, and Dan ends it with a harsh comment, followed by silence. Phil hated not having a friend to talk to, and was secretly hoping that Dan felt the same way. 

Chris had been sentenced to life in prison for attempted murder, violence, three committed murders, and a kidnapping, along with more criminal offences. His trial was uneventful, as Chris looked bored — he looked like he _wasn't_ being sentenced to a lifetime in jail. But watching Dan speak about his experience was heart-breaking, as he nearly broke down and didn't glare at Phil once. When he mentioned how he was saved by Phil and PJ, he didn't sound thankful, but sounded sad and angry.

Phil, however, didn't focus on Dan. He focused on Chris, who was smiling, as if enjoying the damage he inflicted on innocent people. The grin never disappeared when he was found to be guilty of all charges, or when he was taken away by two people. In fact, he _laughed._ It was if he was laughing directly at Phil, making fun of him for what he had to go through now that the hard part was over. Phil could see it in his eyes; Chris _knew_ he was being taken away from the world for the rest of his life, but he managed to break everything in Phil’s world before he could leave.

Phil never had the courage to visit him since. 

Following the trial was PJ’s funeral. Dan didn't attend, even after Phil begged him. The service was short, and Phil spoke quietly about his memories with him, hating how he left out the story of how he made PJ’s last moments in the world so miserable. Later in the night, he heard Dan crying in his room. Phil left the door closed.

Since the incident, Dan had taken a break from working at the MI5 to recover, going to therapy per the request of his dad. Phil came to a session once, but he knew his presence didn’t help, as when the therapist spoke to Dan, she addressed him as _‘the one,’_ and not in the romantic way he wanted.

Dan’s dad was the only one who knew what happened with the therapist, since he attended every single session, but judging by his silence about the topic, Phil figured it wasn't good.

Dan’s mental health didn’t get better. He developed an overwhelming anxiety that kept him away from other people in fear of being in danger. It was if he stopped trying to live, or make any effort to pursue in a hope that Dan decided was dead. He had vivid nightmares and found himself screaming in the middle of the night, shaking in fear. Phil, in the past, had to help Dan through his nightmares, cradling him at night, but eventually stopped. Despite all of Phil’s attempts to help the younger boy, their relationship hasn't gotten any better, and their house was always in silence. Friends and family would come and go, mostly to check on Dan, but they'd end up being shut out and had to hang out with Phil instead, consoling him, telling him that it would “get better.”

It hasn’t. Phil fears it never will.

Phil closes the fridge; he doesn't want to eat anymore.

Instead, he remembers the files that he had left in Dan’s room the night before –– he had helped Dan cope with a nightmare, even if neither of them wanted to, and left them there –– and reluctantly goes to get them. 

Dan’s room is dark, despite outside being so light. The curtains were closed, and no lamp was turned on. His bed was a mess, and so was his desk. Still, Phil manages to find his files.

He’s about to leave when he sees something on the ground, buried under clothes.

A suitcase. Phil recognizes it as Dan’s, and sees clothes that are half folded on top of it. Phil crouches down and moves some clothes out of the way to see chargers, Dan’s wallet, and a one-way train ticket to Reading, Berkshire.

He frowns, trying to make sense of it all and grabbing the ticket. He walks into the lounge and Phil stands in front of Dan, who looks up slightly.

“Since when are you going on vacation?” he asks, but it's more like a demand. Dan’s eyes stare at the ticket in Phil’s hand. He shoots up onto his feet. 

“Where did you find that?” he says quickly, trying to snatch them out of Phil’s hand. He flicks his wrist back. 

“On your suitcase.” 

“Why—” Realization hits Dan and his eyes widen.

“You were in my room!” he accuses.

Phil raises his hands up. “I was just getting the files I left in your room last night and tripped over your suitcase.”

It wasn’t a total lie, but that didn’t matter to Dan, and Phil couldn't bother to care.

“Why are you packing a suitcase?” Phil asks again. “What’s going on?" 

Dan looks down. “I didn't want you to find out this way, despite everything.”

“Dan, what the hell are you talking about?”

Dan sighs. “I’m working on my last case.”

Phil frowns, clearly not getting it. “I don't understand what you’re talking about.”

“I’m resigning, Phil,” he exclaims loudly, snatching the ticket out of Phil’s hand, “and I’m moving out of London." 

Phil skips a breath.

“W-What?” he stutters. He knew things were bad, but he didn't expect that it would end them" 

Dan avoids eye contact.

“I’m moving out of London to start fresh. I’ll probably forget all about the MI5 and _you._ ”

The last words hit Phil hard. Phil shakes his head in disbelief; he wasn’t going to lose someone else.

“You aren’t moving, Dan,” Phil manages to say without breaking down. “We can still fix this. I can’t afford to lose someone else.”

Dan snaps. “You’ve already lost me, Phil! I’m done living with the guy I love so damn much. I’m done with waking up from a nightmare and gaining your fake sympathy when you don’t care at all. _I’m fucking done with it all!_ ”

Phil finds himself trembling in anger.

“I care about you, Dan!” he yells. “I’ve tried so hard to fix us and all you’ve done is nothing!”

“You care about me so much that you play with my feelings and fuck PJ?!” Dan laughs sarcastically. “I’m _really_ feeling the ‘care’ that you supposedly have for me!”

“You know what?! _Fuck you, Dan!_ ” Phil screams. “If you want to go, you can! I don’t care! In fact, I don’t give any fucks about you worthless shit anymore! I don't care about _us!_ So do me a favor and _get the hell out of my house!"_  

Phil takes a deep breath, panting and crying. He looks at the Dan, wondering if he was even listening.

However, he didn't know that Dan heard the words, but didn't hear him anymore. 

Instead, he heard _Chris,_ hissing at him that he was worthless and useless and _pathetic_.

Tears stream from his eyes, and Phil sighs, raising a hand to run it in his hair, but Dan thinks otherwise.

“ _Don’t!_ ” Dan screams, throwing his hands in front of his face, jumping back like a scared cat. _“Don’t hit me!”_

Phil pulls his hand back as if he was burnt. Dan collapses on the ground, thrashing on the floor and covering his face with his sticky hands.

“I’ll tell you everything!” he screams. “I’m sorry I yelled at you! I’ll tell you everything I know, I swear! Just don’t hit me again, _please!_ ”

Phil covers his mouth in shock, tears running down his cheeks as he fell on his knees beside Dan.

“D-Dan, it’s me,” Phil stutters, stretching a hand to help him up. “You’re okay. You are at home. You’re safe.  I’m sorry _––”_  

Dan flinches again, standing up quickly and running towards the door. He doesn't look back at Phil as he slams the door closed.

Phil watches the door slam closed. He stands up slowly, shocked and angry at himself. He looks down at the ticket Dan dropped and he’s tempted to rip it into tiny pieces, just to see if he could make Dan stay here. 

He doesn’t. He’s done enough.

Phil grabs the ticket and staggers into Dan’s room, holding the paper against his chest as he collapses, crying and sobbing as he closes his eyes, falling asleep beside Dan’s suitcase in the dark room.

 _‘He’s gone,’_ he thinks _. ‘I lost him.’_

_\--*--_

Phil walks into the headquarters with a smile that would fool all his colleagues and _himself_.

People smile when they are happy. Phil was anything _but_ happy. He woke up late from a restless night of tears and terrible thoughts with aching bones and a headache. His chest hurt from leaning on the edge of the open suitcase all night, and his eyes were too puffy and irritated to put in his contacts. He decided to wear his black rimmed glasses in hopes of covering his red eyes and would distract people from the dried tears on his face.

Phil kept his head down, and people stared when he was about a meter into the building. He avoided eye contact with anyone in the room as he made his way the elevator.

 _‘The news of what happened probably made its way around,’_ Phil thinks wearily. ‘ _Felix, that son of a bitch.’_

Alone in the elevator, Phil stands there silently before the door opens to reveal a familiar face. He grimaces, knowing what will probably happen once he walks out of the elevator.

“Phillip Michael Lester, what the _hell_ happened?!" 

Phil shakes his head, raising his hands as if he was expecting his friend’s irrational behaviour. He steps out of the elevator, hearing it close behind him.

“Calm down, Louise,” he says. “Nothing happened.”

“I don’t think that’s true, Phil,” she replies.

Phil rolls his eyes, speeding up to try and lose her. But she kept following him, walking faster with every step Phil took.

At the door of his office — well, his and _Dan’s_ office, but he couldn’t bare to think about that right now — he turns around and glares at Louise.

“Louise, it was nothing. Everyone here is already making a fucking big deal out of it. You shouldn’t join them if you are actually my friend.” 

Louise shakes her head disappointedly, the pink ends of her blond hair falling on her chest.

“Since when have you started swearing?”

“Since my whole life turned to shit,” Phil mutters, storming into the office with a swing of the door.

“I’m not sure I like this new sailor-swearing kind of Phil, no offense,” Louise says.

She promptly follows, closing it softly and standing in front of Phil’s desk, watching him sit behind it. He takes off his glasses and rubs the bridge of his nose.

“I don’t know what to do, Louise,” he murmurs. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do.”

He tries to hold all the tears before they could fall again, but Louise could see them about to drop. She walks up to the front of the desk, sits down in the chair, and holds Phil’s hands with a reassuring squeeze.

“Talk to me, honey,” she says quietly. “You can always talk to me.”

Phil does talk to her. He talks to her about everything that happened; from Dan’s kidnapping to sleeping with PJ, and to the fight he and Dan had the night before. One thing lead to another and Phil finds himself crying again, with Louise stroking his hand with her thumb.

“Phil, sweetie, it’s okay,” she whispers.

Phil pulls back and wipes the tears with the back of his hand. 

“It’s not okay, Louise,” he says. “I ruined everything. I ruined the chance of having any relationship with Dan, and may have just ended what I even had of him. I _literally_ ruined PJ’s life, and Dan is moving out and resigning from the place he loves.”

Louise looks down with guilt, fiddling with her thumbs.

“That may not be _exactly_ true,” she says quietly. Phil raises his eyebrows, leaning over the desk, intrigued. 

“What are you on about, Louise…?” he says, a bit worried. Louise avoids eye contact.

“Well, I assume you know that Dan has been working on a case by himself?” Phil nods. Louise sighs.

“The case is involving the report of an illegal weapon dealer that we caught yesterday night. Per request of his dad, I gave him the job of documenting the case to every last detail and handing it to me today. I also asked him to handle the arrest of the weapon dealer, but I told him that he would be doing it by himself. Thing is, that _may_ have been a lie…?”

“Louise, please don’t tell me I am thinking what you are thinking, because if I am, I might actually strangle you.”

Louise lifts her hands up in protest.

“Look, Phil, I was just trying to help with you and Dan’s situation, and I know this may not be the resolution you want, but I think it’s the one you need ––”

“I can’t believe you are making me work with Dan!” he exclaims. Louise rolls her eyes.

“I didn’t tell you that.”

“Okay. Let me ask you, Louise; am I working with Dan as he handles the arrest of an illegal weapon dealer?”

A pause. “Yes.”

Phil leans back in his chair. “Oh my God…”

“Phil, you’ll have to face him eventually,” she says, but is just cut off by the pleads of her black haired friend. 

“Louise, I will literally take over any shift that you want for the rest of my MI5 career and buy you your favourite coffee every single day. Just _please_ don’t make me do this.”

“It’s the right thing to do, Phil! Your relationship with Dan can’t end like this, and I will work every second of my life and use the office coffee if it means I can get you to do this.” Louise looks at him smugly. “And the coffee here is _terrible,_ ” she adds. 

Phil groans. “We don’t _have_ a relationship. Not now, at least. He doesn’t want to see me anymore, Louise. He’s resigning and moving out of _our_ flat just because I made some really fucked up decisions—”

“Please stop swearing, Phil. It’s throwing me off and it makes me think I am talking to Felix. 

Phil sighs. “Please don’t make me do this.”

“Phil, if it makes you feel better, I’ll be there to help you out. I just want you to see if you can tie any loose knots with Dan. If you can’t, at least you tried. I won’t bother you about it anymore if you do.”

“That’s a lie; you’ll _always_ talk to me about fixing my relationship with Dan if this doesn’t work the way you want to,” Phil snaps. 

 _“Phil,”_ she whines. Phil just throws his hands up in the air.

“Fine!” Louise claps. “But it’s only this time, and my coffee run is on you for the rest of the year.” 

“Deal!” Louise shakes Phil’s hand, standing up and dragging him up with her. “Let’s get going then, Lester; an illegal weapon dealer is downstairs just _begging_ to be arrested.”

-–*--

“Dad, you’re one of the most important people here; can’t you just get Louise to make someone else handle this guy’s arrest?”

Dan yanks on the guy’s handcuffs just to show a point. His dad rolls his eyes, shaking his head as he leads Dan down the hallway.

“Why, boy?” the man sneers. “Don’t wanna arrest me? Am I, the humble weapon dealer,  too _dangerous_ for ya?”

“Don’t talk, Carr,” Dan’s dad sneers. “You say another word to my son and I’ll keep you here for double your sentence.”

This seems to shut the guy up. Dan sighs.

“Look, I really don’t want to talk to Phil, let alone _work_ with him,” Dan whines. “You out of all people should know that; you know how I bolted all the way to your place after our fight." 

“I know that, Dan, but just because you are fighting with Phil doesn’t mean you can quit your job.”

“I want to quit, dad!” Dan exclaims. 

“You can quit right now if you wanna, kid!” the weapon dealer says with a toothy grin, the gleam of a gold tooth flashing in Dan’s eyes. 

Dan’s dad glares at the guy. “One more strike and I’ll tell the prison guard to keep Mr. Nathan Carr in prison for ten more fucking years.” 

The guy lowers his head down with a snarl. Dan shakes his head.

“I don’t want this life anymore, dad. I _can’t_ have this life. I don’t want to live this kind of lifestyle anymore. Trust me, it was a blast, but it’s hard to even walk into my office without thinking of Phil, or anything that has happened for the last month.”

Dan’s dad remains silent as Dan keeps talking. 

“I am going back to Reading to stay with mom before I could make any major life choices. I appreciate all that you’ve done for me, dad, but I think I am done.” 

Dan’s dad stops in the middle of the hall, and Dan does as well. 

“Hey kid, warn me when you’re gonna stop so I don’t bash my toes into your heels!” Nathan Carr grumbles.

Dan ignores him, and his dad sighs.

“Dan, you are not going back to your mom. You _hate_ your mom, and you have every right to do so. 

Dan’s dad continues to walk, Dan trailing behind him, dragging Nathan by the handcuffs.

“Look, Dan, all I’m asking is for you to give it one more shot. Louise will even be there if it gets rough. If it doesn’t work out, you are free to do whatever you want. Just give it a chance, please?" 

They reach the end of the hallway and Dan sees him; _Phil._

Dan will admit, he was hoping Phil would look terrible when he saw him. And he wasn’t disappointed; Phil’s hair was messy, and he wore his glasses to cover tear stains and red eyes. Not to say that he looked much better, anyway.

Dan’s dad places a hand on his shoulder and squeezes it reassuringly.

“Just give it a shot, Dan,” he says. Dan takes a breath and sighs.

“Fine,” he says. His dad gives him a pat on the back with a smile. 

“That’s my boy.” He looks at Nathan and whispers in Dan’s ear, “Make sure this smart mouth gets a dirty cell, will you?” 

“I heard that!” Nathan exclaims. Dan shares a small smile with his dad and he disappears. Dan then yanks Nathan’s handcuffs.

“Come on, punk,” Dan huffs, pulling Nathan in the direction of Phil, who seems to have recognize Dan.

“Don’t act all tough on me, pansy,” the man growls. “I saw how much of a brat you were with your old man there; all your whining and complaining is giving me a headache”

“Shut up,” Dan grits out. Nathan chuckles.

“Whatever,” he says, “go and see your ex.” 

Dan ends up face to face with Phil, his hand still tight on the handcuffs binding Nathan. Phil looks at Dan up and down and avoids eye contact.

“Hey,” he says, voice barely a whisper.

Dan ignores the act of sympathy. “Do you know where his cell is? I want to make this as quick as possible.”

He doesn’t mean to be so rude, but it just comes out that way. Phil looks hurt, and he turns his back. Dan finally sees Louise, who is standing behind him.

“Louise,” he whines quietly, and Dan wonders if he was forced to do this too.

Louise makes a facial expression that reads “Stop being a wuss” and Phil sighs, looking at Dan in the eye.

“501. We’re taking him to the registration desk first, and then we are taking him to his cell. Heard the guy is spending five years in jail for illegal weapon dealing; sucks, man.”

Nathan rolls his eyes. “At least I’m not the ex of Mr. Bratty here.”

“Shut up, Nathan; you are practically _begging_ me to extend your sentence.” Dan says in annoyance, growing tired of his sarcastic comments.

Nathan falls quiet again, and Louise sighs, leading the three into the cell block with a swipe of her key card.

It’s mostly quiet until Louise begins handling the registration. Dan’s phone buzzes in his pocket, and he pulls it out to read a text. Phil sneaks a glance and rolls his eyes.

“You aren’t supposed to have your phone out during work involving a confidential case.”

“We’re not in high school, Phil, Jesus Christ,” Dan mutters, looking up. “If you must know why this is so important, the text was from my mom.”

Phil’s eyes widen. “What does your mom want?”

“When I’m coming there and where she should put all my spare stuff that was left in my room,” Dan says bitterly. Phil frowns.

“You’re moving in with your mom? I thought you hated your mom."

“Well all the hatred moved somewhere else, didn’t it?” Dan snaps.

Phil’s had it with Dan’s attitude. He glares at Dan.

“Dan, can we at least act professional?” he exclaims, startling Nathan and Louise, but it seemingly left Dan unfazed. “You are acting like a kid who lost a game of basketball.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that I was acting like a kid. Why don’t you just scream at me until I’m at your feet again, huh?” Dan knows this crosses the line, and is prepared for everything Phil is about to say.

“Dan, why don’t you just talk to me? I told you that having sex with PJ was just something that happened! We were drunk; PJ told you it was a mistake, and it was!”

“Scandalous,” Nathan grumbles. Louise punches him in the arm, taking him away from Dan.

“You know what? I kind of wish PJ was still alive to hear you say this! I think it would’ve made his death a bit more peaceful!”

“Dan, you can’t possibly mean that—”

“Look, you are just selfish, Phil! You just manipulate people into liking you with your sunshine and happiness. You’ve been tricking me that you actually had some sort of feelings for me not only when you got me out of that goddamn house, but for the last eight years that I’ve known you!”

“I’ve always cared about you, Dan!” Phil screams. “You know why?! Why have I always cared about you, Dan?! It’s because _I am head over heels for you!”_

Everything is quiet. Louise leads Nathan to a bench and forces him to sit down as the two watch the whole thing unfold. Dan is speechless.

“W-What?” he stutters. Phil’s adrenaline keeps on pumping, and words fly out of his mouth with no filter.  

“I loved you since the first time I laid eyes on you, Dan Howell. I loved — and still love — every single flaw you have _because it’s perfect_. I love your smile, I love your hobbit hair — even if you don’t. I love your dimple that forms a sad face when you smile because it makes me think that your insecurities are trying to bring you down but you ignore them with a smile, if that even makes sense! It makes me realize you overcame your fears and worries, and I like to think I had a small part in that! I love your crazy laugh, and your even crazier stories. I love to see you rant about things you're passionate about and I love every single one of your jokes, no matter if they are bad puns.”

Phil takes a breath. Dan’s speechless. 

“I love everything about you, Dan,” he whispers, taking a step forward. “I was afraid to say it before, but now I know that I’m not scared to admit something I know is true. I hate that it’s revealed in these circumstances, but as cliched as it is, I want you to know that you are so damn special to me. If you are going to walk out of my life forever, I don’t think I’ll be able to live with myself to know that you think it’s my fault. I’m sorry, Dan. _I love you —”_  

Dan pulls Phil’s tie and reels him closer to him, slamming his lips onto his.

Phil’s eyes widen, but he eventually moves into the kiss, cupping Dan’s cheek and closing his eyes with a smile. 

“Gross,” Nathan mutters. Louise punches him in the arm

“They’re soulmates,” she whispers dreamily. “It’s absolutely wonderful.”

They pull apart, and, noses still touching, Dan smiles at Phil, looking into the pools of blue in his eyes.

“I love you too, Phil,” Dan murmurs, breaking into a small smile. “I love you, I love you, _I love you._ ”

Nathan coughs, and the two turn around.

“Say, can I get a bail or something, as my presence got you two back together?”

“Not a chance, but I can probably slip you into their wedding in six years or so,” Louise says with a smirk, before grasping onto the handcuffs and facing the two boys with a smile. “I’ll take it from here, guys."

She walks away with an annoyed Nathan, and Phil just grabs Dan’s hand as they walk out of the cell block and back into the main lobby of headquarters.

“So what does that make us now?” Phil asks.

Dan squeezes his hand. “I would hope we’d be boyfriends.”

“I suppose we can make that work. I would assume this means that you will also live with me still?”

Dan nods. “I was never going to leave.”

They make their way into the elevator and head to the office, still hand in hand. They sit down at their respective desks, but after a while, Phil breaks the silence.

“What about your mom? What are you going to tell her? Doesn’t she want you to move in with her still?”

Dan looks up from his papers and Phil swears his eyes twinkle a little.

“Do you even _know_ my mother?” Dan says with a shake of his head. _“_ Of course she said no.”

Phil chuckles at the small joke, and stands up to pull Dan to his feet with a hug.

As they stood in an embrace for hopefully an eternity, Dan smiles like he has never smiled before.

 _‘This is the end of something old, and the start of something new,’_ Dan thinks with a small smile. _‘This is the start of my beginning.’_

\--*--

**_After_ **

Louise is shuffling papers on her desk when she is greeted with a loud bang from a pair of elbows on the table. She pulls out her earbuds and looks up.

“Can I see him?” Phil asks. “I’d like to take him to the interrogation room and ask him...some questions.”

Louise frowns, not needing to ask who ‘him’ was. 

“Questions? Phil, I don’t know what else you would be asking him, as this case has been quite dead for years, and rightfully so.”

“Come on, Louise!” Phil pleads. “Please pulls some strings for me, huh? Maybe I can pick up some new interrogation skills so I can teach them to the new trainees.” 

Louise shakes her head, smiling. 

“You have to stop using the new trainees as an excuse to get things to go your way, _Mr. Advisor.”_  

“Hey, just because I don’t work on the field anymore, doesn’t mean I don’t have an important job here. You need to stop saying ‘Mr Advisor’ that way, or I’ll...report you!” 

“Whatever you say, Phil. Your job is basically a school teacher for people who will be catching criminals instead of learning algebra.” Louise laughs. 

 _“Louise,”_ Phil whines. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Lester,” Louise says. “Or should I be calling you _Mr. Howell?”_

Phil’s face goes red. “We’re probably going to put a hyphen or something.” 

“Or I could bring out good ol’ Jason DiCaprio and tell him that he was actually arrested by the _‘_ Howlters _’_.” 

“...shut up,” Phil murmurs, blood rushing to his cheeks.

Louise laughs from behind the desk, shuffling through papers to find a pair of keys. She looks at Phil, who, in return, flashes her a pair of doggy eyes. She rolls her eyes.

“Fine,” — Phil pumps his fist in the air —“but this is the last time. No more of asking good ol’ Louise for favours, okay?” 

She throws Phil the keys, and he nearly drops them, surprised at the gesture. 

“Thanks, Louise,” Phil says happily. “I owe you big time for this one.” 

“Whatever, as long as I am still your grooms-maid,” Louise says nonchalantly. “Do you want me to get you some backup to go in with you? Set up some cameras and stuff, just in case he attacks you... _again?”_  

Phil groans. “No need to remind me of that, Lou. Also? Maybe there doesn’t have to be any camera evidence. Or bodyguards.”

 “Phil, I am genuinely worried. You do know that he is still the same as when we put him in here; he’s still _crazy.”_

“Louise, relax. I can still land a punch to his eye if I need to.”

“Phil, don’t act too cocky. It’ll get you hurt. You remember ‘the knife incident of 2018’, don’t you?”

“How was I supposed to know he made a knife out of the bed frame? I knew he was crafty, but he was never _that_ crafty,” Phil says defensively.  “Plus, all that training with the new up and coming agents has helped me as well. I could probably kick his ass.” 

“It’s been _six years,_ Phil,” Louise says. “Things aren’t the same as they were in 2016. I am pretty sure six years can do something to the best MI5 agent’s ‘badass abilities’.”

" _I’ll be fine.”_

Louise shakes her head. “At least let me get Joe and Caspar to help you get him out of there and stand outside the room. That’s all I ask.”

“Fine,” Phil says.

He turns to walk away, but before he could, Louise speaks up. 

“And Phil?” 

He turns around. 

“Be careful,” she says. “I don’t want you getting hurt.” 

Phil’s eyes seem to twinkle. “He won’t hurt me, Louise. He _can’t_ hurt me. Besides, we aren’t doing much…I just want to have a _chat_ with him.”

\--*--

Phil leads him into the small room, making sure none of the cameras in the room were blinking red. When Joe and Caspar finish up restraining him in his chair —“Calm down, big guy,” he snarls to Caspar, “it’s not like I’m an animal or anything.” — they leave Phil alone in the room, standing right by the door.

Phil stands at the far end of the wooden table, eyeing the man in front of him, before sliding the metal chair closer to him and sitting on it. He folds his hands on the table.

“Been a while,” he says. 

Chris Kendall grins. “Looking at you makes me remember why I wanted to do this in the first place, Philly.”

“Don’t talk to me like that, Chris. 

“Sorry, officer. Don’t really know how the public likes to be talked to, as I’ve been in here for a solid _six years._ Tell me, Phil, are they riding in hover-cars yet? Been a long time since you’ve brought me outside; I’ve been breathing jail-cell air for years now.”

“Well, if you didn’t beat up that one guy while playing basketball, maybe you would be rolling under the hot sun more often,” Phil says sarcastically.

Chris raises his hands up, trying to mock a sense of innocence. 

“If that guy stopped yelling at me about crossing the boundaries, maybe I would’ve spared him a black eye. I mean, we were in jail for god’s sakes, not the fucking NBA.” 

“Can you please try and be nice for once, Chris? I don’t mind making your stay living hell. And you don’t want your whole life to be living hell, do you?” 

“It’s fine, Phil; I mean, I’m not getting any younger. A lifetime sentence in here can certainly trim my chances of living to 90.” 

“I can never get you to shut up for a few minutes, can I?”

Chris laughs. “Why did you even bring me here, Phil? I mean, I never thought you’d come again since the infamous visit in 2018. What do you want to do, slap me a bit? And aren’t you supposed to be on the field?”

“I don’t work on field anymore, Chris. I train new agents. I’m their advisor.” 

Chris scoffs. “So you’re a school teacher now?” 

“Shut up, Chris, Jesus Christ,” Phil says, as if he was bored. “Your jokes aren’t getting any funnier.” 

“Fine, I will. Only if you temporarily let me free to scratch this damn scar on my leg; no one wants to give me some frickin’ lotion around here. What am I going to do with it; poison it with my own piss?”

Phil rolls his eyes, thinking of the jagged scar that PJ had left when he stabbed Chris in the leg all those years ago.

“Slim chance, Kendall,” Phil says. “Why do you even try?” 

“Whatever, Phil. PJ is probably serving his own sentence for giving me that scar anyway.” 

Phil snaps, slamming his hands on the table, the force shaking the single lamp hanging from the ceiling.

“I can make the rest of your sentence living hell if I want, Chris. I could give you everything you deserve, but worse. Now you are going to stay quiet and keep your mouth shut until I say so, alright?!”

A moment of silence. Chris looks down at the wooden table, and for a few seconds, Phil thinks he has finally won.

“So where’s your _husband_ ?” Chris asks with a sly smirk, and Phil doesn’t even want to _try_ anymore. He sighs, looking down at the silver ring wrapped around his ring finger on his left hand. He smiles.

“Dan’s not working here anymore,” Phil answers bluntly.

Chris gives him a smug smile. “Did I scare him off?”

“No,” Phil replies, “he’s retired."

Chris raises his eyebrows, leaning back in the chair with a fake look of shock painted across his face.

“Since when did your husband become fifty?” he jokes.

Phil rolls his eyes; he knew the real reason why Dan resigned, but it wasn’t like he was going to say anything to Chris.

Dan had retired from the MI5 shortly after the incident with Chris and Cat. Phil was worried it was because of what happened, but Dan denied it, saying he ‘outgrew’ the job, and was looking for something else, which was something Phil wasn’t expecting.

Dan expressed a desire to make a YouTube channel. When Phil had asked why, Dan just told him it was because he wanted to make a positive impact on someone’s life through entertainment.

Of course, Phil was by his side through the whole thing. He planned Dan’s ‘going away’ party, and he helped him buy a nice camera, different kinds of video equipment, and downloaded a decent editing software on his laptop. He was there when Dan clicked ‘make an account’ and Dan typed in his username with a new degree of confidence.

This was five years ago, and _danisnotonfire_ now has over six million subscribers. Dan liked to think of himself as an ‘internet cult leader’ and ran some sort of ‘internet support group’. While scrolling through his videos, Phil watched the late night conversations and opinions he had with Dan on a regular basis turn into videos and funny sketches that let his persona shine. He had a humongous following, and has taken his family to many YouTube conventions. Of course, Dan would never tell subscribers about his past job, or let his personal anxieties take over; he described his channel as ‘somewhere for lost people to hide out for now’, and it made Phil so happy that Dan was having some sort of impact on people’s lives.

“For your information, Dan has a steady job, and is actually quite famous. He has a following that could probably kill you in an angry mob if they ever found out what you did to him,” Phil says, holding his head up high.

He pauses, then adds, “And he’s not my husband. _Yet.”_

Chris cocks an eyebrow, and instinctively lowers his gaze to Phil’s left hand. He smiles a toothy grin, looking back up at a rather flustered Phil.

“Oh, I see he proposed,” Chris says. “I’m talking to the future Mr. Howell-Lester, am I?”

Phil was about to reply, but he paused, and smiled.

“Yeah,” he says with a new sense of confidence. “You _are_ talking to the future Mr. Howell-Lester.”

“I would clap, but I am temporarily restrained,” Chris says, flashing a smile towards Phil. “Emphasis on _temporarily…?_ ”

“Hilarious,” Phil deadpans.

He then goes to explain to Chris that Dan had proposed about a year ago in their office, while packing his stuff up. They have been planning every single detail for the last year, from their first dance — “If it’s ‘Aftermath’, I will die a happy man,” Chris says with a smile, and Phil doesn’t answer, even if he knew that was obviously the song they chose — to the cake and everything. Their son, who they adopted three years ago and named PJ in honor of the late spy, would be there as the ring bearer, and during their honeymoon to Japan, they would adopt a baby girl named Mai, which meant ‘elegance’ or ‘ocean’ in Japanese.

“So you are tying the knot. That’s...great,” Chris says slowly. “What was the point of telling me this?"

Phil smiles, pulling a few papers out and sliding them across the table. Chris looked at him in confusion.

“What are these?” he asks. Phil says nothing, forcing Chris to look down at the papes.

_You are invited to the wedding of_

_Dan Howell_

_ & _

_Phil Lester_

 

Chris didn’t even bother reading the rest of invite. His eyes travel to the other piece of paper, and he looks at Phil with a fire in his eyes.

“What the fuck is this?!” Chris roars. Joe looks at Phil through the windows, but Phil shakes his head. His attention goes back to Chris.

“What does it look like, Chris?” Phil says. “I’m inviting you to our wedding.”

Chris looks at him with a furious glare. Phil continues. 

“I talked to Dan, and as long as you agree to everything on the contract, you are allowed to go out of your jail cell and spend the day at the wedding ceremony. Of course, you aren’t allowed at the reception — I don’t think you can dance in restraints anyway, and drinking is obviously not an option. You will have two agents by your side throughout the whole ceremony though, so you won’t be completely alone. Failure to comply with any of the regulations, or if you disrupt the ceremony in any way, you will be heavily punished.” 

Chris looks astonished. Phil smiles, pushing the papers even closer towards Chris.

“Take it or leave it, but you are the reason it happened to start with. A small part of me wants to thank you,” Phil says, and now it’s his turn to smirk. “Take some time to think about it, Chris, but not too long; the wedding isn’t far off now anyway, and maybe if you’re extra good, I’ll save you some cake.”

Chris finally snaps, just like Phil anticipated him to. He looks at the window and catches the attention of Joe and Caspar, who come back into the room to get Chris on his feet and yank him by the handcuffs. 

“ _You’ll never be happy!_ ” Chris shrieks, laughing and crying like a maniac as he thrashes in the grasp of the two agents. “You think this is some sick joke, Lester?! You just wait! I’ll be there and you will regret every single thing you’ve ever done to me!”

They manage to get Chris out of the room, and when Phil is alone, he grins; that was worth every second to see Chris freak out like that. 

-–*--

Dan hears the door open, and drops a toy bunny lightly beside PJ, telling him to stay put for a minute, and went down the stairs and to the door in a rush. 

He smiles when he sees his fiancé at the door, carrying a few bags of groceries and a file folder. Dan kisses him on the cheek and grabs a bag.

“Hey, lion,” he says happily. Phil matches his smile.

“Hey, bear. Glad to see you smiling. What’s up?” he asks, following him up the stairs to go back into the lounge. Dan beams.

“I filmed a new video today _and_ finished half the editing an hour ago, so I’ve been playing with Peej and finishing up the final adoption papers for when we go to Japan and get our daughter.”

Phil grins. “Now you’re making me smile, _Mr. Howell-Lester_.”

Dan places the bags aside and stares at Phil.

“Mr. Howell-Lester?” he asks. “W-We’re going to put my name first? I thought you wanted yours. 

Phil moves swiftly to Dan’s side, pulling him close and kissing him.

“I want your name as well,” Phil whispers when they pull about. “And I can’t wait to be the Howell-Lesters.”

Dan grins. “What brought this on?" 

“Would you believe if I said it was the craziest man on earth?” Phil replies, and then Dan chuckles softly.

“You _actually_ gave the invite to Chris?” Dan asks in shock.

“Yeah, was that okay? I mean, we talked about it, and I just went for it,” Phil says, looking down. Dan shakes his head.

“No, I just find it very funny. The man who set up the worst moment of my life out of jealousy _finally_ gets to see that I got the one he wanted,” Dan says with a sly smile. “How’d he react?”

“Terrible.” Phil grins. “He totally flipped out. I don’t even know if he is coming or not.”

“Well let’s not bother with that,” Dan says with a smile. “I mean, it’s not like he’s writing us a ‘best man’ speech or anything.”

“Fine by me,” Phil says. 

Silence. Dan meekly looks at Phil.

“Did you happen to get takeout? And, not to be lazy or anything, but it _is_ Friday…”

“I got Chinese takeout in that Tesco bag,” Phil says, pointing to the bag, “and I got us a pair of caramel macchiatos on the coffee table, along with a chocolate cake pop.”

“You’re the best!” Dan says, kissing his cheek once again. He looks at PJ, and then points to Phil.

“Look who’s home, Peej?” he says. The young boy’s green eyes lit up and he shot up, running to hug Phil’s leg.

“Papa!” he exclaims, wrapping his small body around his leg. “I drew a dragon! Daddy helped me!”

Phil glances at the small piece of paper on the carpet, and he grins, immediately reminding him about PJ, and he ruffles his son’s hair.

“That’s great, Peej,” Phil whispers with a small smile, kissing his forehead. “It’s always great.”

\--*--

After eating dinner, they watched some TV, laughing and playing with their son. Before they knew it, PJ’s bedtime came around, and he skipped to his room, which was once Dan’s, but they made it PJ’s, since they shared a bed in Phil’s room.

“But daddy, I don’t want to sleep!” PJ whines as he is tucked into bed. Dan sighs, brushing his hair out of his eye. Phil was in the other room, changing into his pajamas.

“How about if I sing you a song?” he asks. PJ’s eyes light up. 

“Really? Okay!” he squeals. Dan bites his lip, sitting at the edge of his bed, and he finally decides on a song.

… 

Phil walks into PJ’s room to say goodnight when he sees Dan, softly singing a song to PJ. He smiles softly and listens.

“But my heart is strong,” Dan sings, “ ‘cause now I know where I belong. It’s you and I against the world, we are free…” 

“From this moment,” Phil joins in. Dan looks at him and smiles. “From this moment! You will never be alone.”

“Bound together,” they sing to PJ. “Now and forever…”

Dan looks at Phil, and he squeezes his hand.

“The loneliness has gone…,” Dan finishes, and as the moon sets, Phil smiles; his beginning has finally ended, and it was time to start anew.

**_~The End~_ **


End file.
